échelon–
by Neame kke
Summary: The last thing he'd expected to find out in his second year of university was that she had a child – a son. Born with his eyes. (sixshot)
1. Chapter 1

**_'échelon –' was written in sync for a_** _'_ _valentines challenge,'_ **_with (and in dedication to)_** _Ashe Corinthos_ _.  
_

 ** _this is probably a sixshot and i'm hoping i actually get to complete it instead of constantly making mistakes with my life._**

 ** _This is pretty much 'Len Is a Jerk who is still a kid but finds out he has a younger Kid'._**  
 ** _the french is done last-minute and I harassed a few of my friends into confirming/translating for me so if whatever's written down is wrong, please_** _feel_ _free to_ ** _point it out?_**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _fingerguns_  
 ** _Warning:_** _the only reason this isn't a m-rated fic is because i don't want anyone to judge me.  
also there 's seks in this_

* * *

.

 _闇に咲く可憐な花を_

 _徒に手折っては慰む日々_

 _癒えない傷を慰めあって_

 _抉られてるのは_

 _俺の方_

.

.

 _"Hey, hey, Len- it's me, oh no, don't hang up! Not yet, atleast.. geez, thank god you've finally managed enough guts to toughen up and accept the call, I've been trying to reach you for_ hours. _"_

 _"You're still there, aren't you? Come on, say something. Is this about the gathering last week? Look, I'm sorry I dragged you over to attend it. I know you've already said you were busy before and I'm in the wrong for forcing you to go in the first place. It's just.. it's been years since you've been in a stable relationship and it's just not right to me. What happened to that kid who smiled at every single second of the day and had enough confidence to dream about having his first child with perfect golden hair and bright blue eyes? Don't you dare debate about those girls you lead to fancy hotels and restaurants, that's not what proper relationships_ are _."  
_

 _"You're not still hung up about your last relationship, are you?"_

 _"Len, it's been five years. You're already nineteen._ _I'm worried about you, y'know? Gumi, Kaito_ _–.. we all are."_

 _".. Okay, I understand that you don't want to talk, especially with me – so I'll let you off, just for tonight.. however, this is still important, and we_ are _going to discuss this. It hasn't been the same since.. and I'll confess, even though you were even more than irritating and sometimes unbearable to withstand, I kind of miss having a little brother to joke around with_ _."_

 _"That's settled, then.. night, Len."_

 _Beep._

.

.

Kagamine Len had always felt as if there was something missing in his life.

Or, rather, he'd _known_ there was.

It was unmistakable.

That nagging, irritable pounding against his chest.

It always came at the time before he slept at night and it's the first thing he feels whenever he wakes up in the morning right after seeing the framed photograph on his left, settled across the smooth dark mahogany of his small bedside table. He'd graze his fingers over the image, dreaming of his past, and then mustered whatever he had left of a smile.

.

.

.

He had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

At first he had thought it an average day: not too pleasant, but more bearable than the others.

The rest of last night was spent deleting all of Miku's messages and clearing his inbox. Since he saw that it started as a peaceful friday morning, he made the false assumption that it would end as one: so instead of worrying, the blond carried on with his usual classes and went to work his shift at his grandaunt's coffee shop, purely for the sake of helping _'family'_ out. It wasn't that he was _that_ desperate or truly needed to, his tuition fees were well covered and so were his living expenses; both of his parents made sure to send their only son a monthly allowance of a thousand dollars each.

But he needed to work there for an _excuse._

If he wasted his time away, that _monster_ would find another reason to drag him out to another mixer or party, despite his constant protests that he already had to focus on his _studies._

Len was already stressed enough as he is.

And although _Miku_ cried the other night into the phone claiming that she wouldn't force him into another outing, he still couldn't find the will to believe her.

Especially when right as he changed out of his uniform and went to leave the shop, a familiar tealette stormed through the glass doors and snatched a grasp onto his wrist.

"I've been looking for you _everywhere_."

"Oh."

"What, no – _no,_ not _'oh', and_ don't even try to make an excuse on avoiding me anymore, you little freak. I saw you hanging around the corridors in between classes and you didn't even think _twice_ about hanging up on my calls."

"Well, I've been a little preoccupi– _hey!_ "

And without further ado, he'd already been onto the front passenger seat of her car and watching as she strapped herself into a seatbelt and allowed him the full view of what she was truly wearing underneath her coat: tight high-waisted shorts and something that looked more like a skirt than a top, yet it's laced with a band across her chest.

It was, in Miku _Hatsune's_ sense of fashion, 'party-clothes'.

 _He had a very bad feeling about this._

Oh, he wanted to argue.

Debate, scream, complain that he's had enough of all the _crap_ she'd made him go through the years. But instead the male did nothing more than press his cheek against the window, watching the moving scenery outside and grunting about how she's wasting another one of his nights' – right before the weekend came by to bring him peace, too.

If there was one thing he'd regretted and wished he could turn back time for, it was meeting Hatsune Miku.

 _For more than one reason, at that._

"Don't look so glum, _come on,_ freshen up. We're still young _, the night is still young_ and you're wasting it all on studying," Her grip on the steering wheel is loose and he wonders how much of a risk it is just to be inside the same car as her. "Anyways, since we haven't had a good heart–to–heart conversation for a while, let's talk. Have you been meeting any new girls lately, flirting, gotten any _numbers?_ Gumi's single too, you know,"

" _Gumi?_ Yeah.. don't _you_ like her?"

"What the..? _No_ , of course not, I'm over her, those feelings are long gone–" Unlike _his._

It's pathetic that she's even considering _Gumi_ as a potential partner for him. _Gumi,_ who comes around every Christmas Morning to storm into his flat with Miku so they can bother him on his day-off from studies. Gumi, who despite him groaning that it's a holiday which he doesn't even _celebrate,_ decides to come over and baked him a special apple pie after hearing Miku's false claims that he'd decided to adopt a new vegan lifestyle.

 _Gumi,_ who's more that of an older sister _-who's–not-really–related-to–him_ but still comes around to try and make the best out of his 'miserable' _(as Miku deemed it)_ university life.

Lord, no. _Does she really think he's that desperate?_

When he didn't speak further, she spoke up again.

"So, assuming that you're a precocious little brat who doesn't like _Gumi_ at all, any _other_ girls?"

"Are you searching for _yourself?_ "

"No, _no,_ of course not. Don't get mouthy, my love life is completely out of this." She shoots him a nasty look through the rearview mirror, her usual ritual– which he gags at before shooting her a stern glare as if warning her to focus on her reckless driving. "Weren't you the one who said you'd love to live as an elderly man with your beautiful wife in the countryside – rearing _six grandchildren_ and nine goats whom you'd raise with tender-loving care?"

Not _now,_ when he doesn't even have that 'beautiful wife' within reach of his fingertips.

Len stifles a laugh. "Not anymore."

"You used to be such an amazing kid, what happened to you?"

"It's been almost half a decade. Miku, I can _change_. Right now the only thing I want to focus on are my studies. Besides, I don't even _like_ children so there really isn't an option for me to have any _babies_ of my own. I'll stay out of your love life, so you can stay out of mine."

".. that isn't exactly an _option,_ here."

And she'd parked inside the middle of somebody's driveway and practically lugged him out of the car.

He's not even in the right attire, damn it – a warm woolly cardigan and tight sweatpants that he'd worn with the intention of completely stripping himself off the moment he got back home.

Now he's stuck here.

 _Great._

Miku seemed to give absolutely no _shits_ about seeing the displeased look across her junior's face, and the instant he stepped inside the dorm, _a college dorm at that,_ he was struck with the overwhelming instinct to puke.

It wasn't.. _wild._ Although the girl was, in his mind, a complete _sociopath,_ most of her friends seemed normal enough even to fit his own standards. There weren't any frightening motions of people dancing along to the music like there was no tomorrow, it wasn't like there were screaming or police sirens in the background despite the generalization of usual parties he'd see on television – it's strangely quiet. Not that he hasn't attended his _own_ parties before, but _still._

He supposes he could appreciate Miku _just this once_ for leading him somewhere he wouldn't feel too out of place.

But the _alcohol._

Oh, god.

Thick, thick, alcohol. Len had never gotten along too well with liqueur.

After a smooth round of greetings the girl had forced him to go around on, her hugging her friends and introducing him while at the same time not letting go of her grip on his wrist _(because apparently she thinks he's a child who'll wander off on his own if she ever dares take her eyes off him for a single second),_ she'd pulled him towards a quiet girl sitting in the corner and _forced_ him to initiate a conversation.

"Len, come over here for a moment.. right, okay, this is Miki!"

Len wrinkled his nose – Miku really _is_ trying her best to match him up, isn't she?

Too bad her efforts are for naught; he's not at all interested in this girl, with her cherry-red hair that proves she's obviously trying too hard to stand out and her lips looking far too glossy as if she'd bought dollar-store lipstick and applied nineteen coats. She's got a cute nose, a nice figure, and there are small freckles on her cheeks, but there just isn't that interest.

 _There isn't that spark._

The blond broke into an awkward smile, his voice cracking a little: ".. hello."

Miku did well in pinching his side: apparently the demon was no longer accepting one-word liners as a greeting. God, she'd heightened her standards from the last time they'd done this, he even did _two_ syllables instead of one. The more he gives, the less she appreciates.

"I'm Len."

 _Smooth._

Fist-bumping inside his mind, it isn't until he remembers that Miku already introduced him by his name does his small smile falter.

The other girl – _Miki–_ didn't seem to mind however, instead returning the greeting with a polite nod.

"Miki's an author, she wants to publish one of her books some day. _Isn't that right?_ "

There's a moment as the redhead compliments a moment, and Len internally prays she decides against speaking, just nod, _nod,_ and then he'll find an excuse to run off and they'll both be on their merry way.

But instead, she spoke. "Um.. yeah... I'm _still trying,_ I suppose."

 _Nooo. . . ._

"That's great! Len loves books too so you'd both get along nicely."

No, _no, shit, no_.

And that traitor, _Miku,_ left without more than a single glance towards him.

Needless to say the entirety of his friday night was spent with him talking to this _one girl_ and trying to make her seem even the slightest bit interested with his words although she looked like she wanted to cry throughout their entire conversation; they'd went from speaking about her favourite books and questioning whether she'd rather live as a boy wizard or founding one of the most successful corporations of all time. And then it went deep into their personal lives and he's left with a girl he barely knows _weeping into his shoulder because she accidentally brought up the subject of her ex-boyfriend's cat._

He'd awkwardly stroked the top of her head, trying to whisper that it's alright, she'll find a new one soon.

"You – you don't understand, he – he can't go to sleep without cuddling me at night!" The girl bubbled, tears spilling out to wet his shirt (and he doesn't want to be rude, but he _does_ mind having his clothes become spoiled.) "And – and _Yuuma, you know Yuuma.. he won't even let the poor kitty sleep on the bed during the cold season..!"_

" _Shhhh.._ that's fine, _maybe he does now_. Maybe he installed a new heater inside the house, you never know."

"But – but – what if he _doesn't?!_ "

 _Well, that's none of my business now, is it?_

It took a moment before Len realised he'd accidentally mused that out loud.

 _Shit._

And then, like a weakened dam collapsing after being pent up and nudged by a small wooden twig, she broke into louder sobs and he's left there staring at the blank wall wondering _where he went wrong in this life._

Although, despite it all, he can't help but feel a little nostalgia, patting a girl's head like this and trying to comfort her while his own knees threatened to buckle up and collapse. Feeling someone depend on him, use him as their only strength, their sole comfort. It's sweet.

He can almost remember it, flaxen strands twining along his fingers as if he spun gold.

Soft, _soft,_ a waft of citrus in her scent.

And, before he could hold himself back..

. . "S _hh._. don't cry, it's _alright, Rin.._ hey, _I'm right here,_ don't cry.."

.

.

.

Saturday morning hit him like a tonne of bricks.

He doesn't know the reason behind his terrible migraine. He hadn't drunk, and he definitely didn't immerse himself in anything else. There's a rap at his door and he's glad to see that it isn't Miku when he looks through the peephole and finds a particularly chirpy older greenette, holding the weight of a plastic tupperware in her left hand, while a cardboard tray with cupped beverages on top balanced on her other.

Len unlocked the door and allowed the girl entry, and she streamed gladly inside.

"Morning, sunshine. My heater's broken, mind letting me crash in your flat for a while?"

"Your water heater or..?"

"Both."

"Oh. Go ahead and wash up here if you need to, I won't mind." He eyes the female as she settles her packages on his island counter, and although he had tried to resist, he couldn't help but go over the temptation and ask, "Gumi, you didn't bring over anything weird again, did you..?"

The greenette blinks a moment as if surprised.

She opens the lid of the tupperware and the delicacy of warm steam emits into the room just a few moments later.

Len can't help but catch the distant scent of melted mozzarella cheese, along with a dust of cheddar and alluring strips of meat.

Oh, _it's a taste he'll never forget._ "You made some more lasagne?"

"Hm..? Yeah, there's your usual frappe too.. I had a feeling you'd have a headache this morning after that party Miku dragged you along to yesterday.. she'd already told me about it. I thought it might clear your mind a little if you had a home–cooked meal as breakfast for once. I was told you met a nice girl, though." The girl finds comfort in taking off her jacket and draping it over one of his sofas, just before sitting cross–legged onto a stool and leaning across the counter. "I'm assuming you didn't."

Before anything, he reached over for his vanilla frappucino, taking a quick sip for his morning intake of caffeine.

".. well, _somewhat._ I guess so. _Shit_."

"What happened?"

The blond ruffled a hand through his bangs and didn't even bother to stifle a bitter laugh, "She ended up crying on my shoulder about her ex–boyfriend's kitten the entire night."

The disgruntled groan that escaped from Gumi's lips was followed immediately after.

She shifted a little to make room as the younger male plopped down onto the other stool beside her, reaching over for two plates, forks, and slicing a sharp knife through the meal to create perfect squares into the cheese.

Len scooted it into their plates a moment afterwards.

"Miku's still adamant about finding you a _partner,_ huh..? Sorry about that, do you need me to tell her off?"

"No.. there really isn't a need.. she'll crack soon enough," He lifts a fork and cracks it down onto his slice of lasagna, bringing the heated moisture close to his lips. "Thanks for this, for coming over, and bringing me your cooking. This really smells good."

Gumi takes a whiff of the pasta– "Does it?" She breaks into a small smile, "That's nice to know."

There's a moment of silence as they eat the meal in shared comfort.

It doesn't last too long when the door breaks open a minute later, revealing an ecstatic tealette who waved her copy of spare keys to the flat through the air, and brought her arms down when she saw the food on the marble counter.

Her mouth fell into a perfectly–rounded 'o'.

"Lasagne! _I want some!_ "

"Get your own."

Pouting, she stood across from them and leaned her elbows atop the table. "Gumi, you sucker. That's fine, I can just watch you both eat. _Anyways,_ Len! My _man,_ my main male friend, _brother,_ little brother– come and share your tales with us a little, I heard that you got some _action_ from a certain _Miki Utatane_ yesterday night, _am I right?_ "

 _Wink wink, nudge nudge._

Gumi couldn't help but roll her eyes.

Being the bearer of bad news, the girl pushed her short hair out of the way while she ate another piece of her lasagna– and then spilled the words out easily, " _Nice pairing,_ Miku. That girl you set Len up with ended up wailing about her _ex-boyfriend_ to him the entire night while you wasted your time partying. What are you even trying to _do?_ "

Miku couldn't help but gape in shock, her hands flying to clasp over her mouth. "Miki?! No way, she's always so well-reserved."

"You probably chose her because she's _eyecandy._ "

Len hummed in agreement, nibbling onto another bite of cheese.

Someone's fighting his battles for him – that's a first.

Instead of screaming his head off like he would've done a few years ago, the blond only watches as the events unfold with an edge of amusement, seeing the tealette huff her cheeks and cross her arms, looking very much like an overfed rabbit

"Well, _a little bit," s_ _he definitely can't be compared to his own ex, however.._ "mostly because she was interested in writing. Len's interested in books, she's interested in books, d'you see where I'm getting here?" _no, not at all._ "But do not fear, my friends."

 _Do not fear?_

At the mention of that, Len immediately perked up.

Oh, lord, now he's definitely in fear – don't tell him that she's already had a back-up plan incase his most recent 'courtship' had failed.

"Since I already knew that our little _buddy_ over here," Miku gestured towards Len, accentuating _'buddy'_ , while she made circles in the air, "wouldn't ever dare to ask a girl for her number _because he's an arrogant arsehole_.. _I went ahead and made an arrangement for a blind-date_ tonight between him and this senior I met at our university."

 _Yep, she'd already planned this._

His jaw hung open, dropping his fork and hearing it clink loudly as it fell to the floor. "What– _wait,_ I can't go on a blind date. Miku, you can't just _do_ this, I _had–_ wait, no, I already _made plans t_ oday!"

"Not anymore," The tealette smiled sweetly. "I sent her a link of _all_ your social media accounts."

A gleam in her eyes proved that he didn't have a choice.

This demon has already claimed all control over his life.

And then she picked up a new fork from his utensil set, happily digging it into his plate of lasagna and placing it through her own lips.

.

.

.

.

 _You'll like this one, I promise!_

 _Don't be so nervous, she's just your type, I made sure that she was: she's very pretty, hates life most of the time, enjoys morning coffee but definitely dislikes home-brewed, doesn't want children – really hates kids, this one. Somewhat blonde. Oh, and she has commitment issues, just like you. Don't dare mention anything about marriage!_

 _Alright, that's it._

 _Oh, and keep me and Gumi updated. Good luck!_

Miku's five–minute prepping was the only information he had of this girl, and he's left squirming in his seat for a little longer while he awaits this girl, a notebook in his hand and a cup of coffee in his other.

It's best to get this over with.

He's stuck inside this 'french cafe' with an inside that's decorated with wooden antiques and ornaments that hang along the walls. The smell of fresh pastries swishes into the air and plenty of the food are more Italian than French, but he supposes it's the multiple miniature sculptures of the Eiffel Tower that adds to the spice.

On the table there's a small plate of biscuits, and a single rose is set to the side.

It doesn't take long with a few coffee refills from a blonde waitress _(who'd smiled when she saw aforementioned rose and complimented the shade)_ before his 'date' finally arrives, long hair clung firmly to her body and her cheeks were huffed with small amounts of sweat. Parts of her light strands are folded into wary curls and she plops down onto the seat across from him, forcing an odd smile on her face.

Len coughed awkwardly, pushing his book aside and straightening his back.

"Kagamine Len, nice to meet you."

His arm is stretched out, and she grasps his hand with her own for a firm shake.

"Mayu Asaka." The girl nods curtly, and then leans back into her seat. "You're _Miku's.._ younger brother?"

" _Colleague._ " Len corrects, offering a bit of a smile in return, observing her firmly. "We attended highschool together."

When the same waitress from earlier hands them a menu, Mayu scanned through the pages and scoffs lightly underneath her breath, a finger trailing underneath the line of words.

The boy can't help but raise a brow.

"Sorry, it's just– _what is this,_ " She says in mock–disgust, a light smirk on her lips as she voices her opinion out at him, ".. all this _french._ I can't help but find it pathetic, really.. I'm assuming that none of the workers here can even speak a single word, _much less a sentence,_ of the language yet they're trying so _desperately_ to act _westernised._ "

 _Well, oookay then._

 _Someone hasn't had their morning coffee._

Deciding that he didn't want to stir up any fights, Len only cleared his throat and averted his gaze, about to place his own order when the waitress that had been waiting to take their order began to speak: "Ah, _Madame..!_ Je _vous prie de bien vouloir m'exc_ user; je ne comprends pas, parlez–vous français?"

 _Oh._

Len shot a gaze up at her, watching as this _girl_ – the blonde waitress from earlier – recovered from her red cheeks of irritation and her glare. She blinked a few minutes in embarrassment once she noticed his gaze on her, and the girl hangs her head low enough for her bangs to completely shield her eyes.

"Ahh.." Mayu looks just as surprised, and she gulps down some saliva before nodding her head, "Un.. _un peu._ "

"Je vois. Qu'est-ce que vous voulez commander? Est-ce que vous voulez quelque chose à boire pour commencer?"

"U _n moment.._ ce que vous _recommend..?_ Anything _light?_ "

".. oui; du thé vert et de la Brioche."

The woman sitting across from him looks dumbfounded for a minute, and then.. "Oui.. _then –_ then I'll have that. _Those._ "

When the waitress jots her requests down onto a notepad and turns to ask him whether he'd like a refill of his coffee _(or atleast, that's what he assumes she's saying. She'd spoken clear english just before and now she's sticking firm on using a language he doesn't even understand,)_ he only waved a hand dismissively and shot her a weak smile.

Yet this.. _woman .._ sitting infront of him looked less than mildly pleased.

It took a moment before she noticed the rose across the table.

"How nice." She picked it up, twiddling the trimmed stem along her fingers. "Never been too fond of flowers, myself.. it's still a nice ornament to hang around with."

Mayu crossed her arms and leant back in the seat, giving him a good view to make his careful observation of this girl. She was small with a good build that could mean she has a routined exercise regime, and there are coloured waves in her calf-length hair which gives him the confirmation that she wasn't a natural blonde. Her eyes shone with a blinding gold and the small knitted patterns along her irises note that she's wearing contacts.

Her clothes were strict, a pencil skirt that fit her form just a tight bit oddly, and a nude silk top which meant to show off her figure.

There's nothing more to say about her _personality._

Miku had said that she was just his type, and that's wrong.

His type of girl is _cute._

She's _petite a_ nd slightly chubby around her edges; would complain about the fat but would never bother to change how she is. His type of girl is blonde, but not _any_ shade of blonde – not the darkest or fairest, but that perfect shade in–between that only _she_ can pull off. His type of girl is childish and absurdly stubborn, she'd puff her cheeks whenever she's irritated with him but crack just a minute to pamper him in her kisses.

 _His_ type of girl loves to cuddle, prefers wearing warm cardigans or his oversized tees rather than having body hugging clothing or garments that dawn her figures. She loves sniffing his clothes and skin, his heat, and absolutely _hates_ the cold. She loves flowers, _roses,_ more than anything.

She's compassionate, and enjoys hearing nothing more than the soft coo of a baby and a kittens' purr.

And his type of girl is someone who'd– "–an _d you're not even paying any attention._ "

Finally, Len snapped up in realisation.

Before he'd noticed it, his gaze had been staring intently on the blonde waitress across the room, now tending to an elderly couple who were holding hands above the tabletop. "Sorry, what were you saying?" The boy questioned softly, his voice meek.

Mayu narrowed her eyes into a glare and shook her head while she took a slow sip of her drink – he hadn't noticed her order had already came, and it might be safe to assume that she's been trying to talk to him for the past twenty minutes, only for it to have been a complete one–sided conversation.

An empty plate is beside the rose, and he assumes that's the leftover of the brioche that had arrived earlier.

The young lady scoffed, standing from her seat.

"I see how it is. Alright then, have fun _daydreaming,_ I'll be taking my leave."

Before he could hold the woman back, she'd already gotten her part of the bill and left the boy to sink further into his seat, enjoying nothing more than the heater burning warmth across his skin and comfortable silence.

 _Miku's going to love hearing about this later._

Len pulled his wallet out and went to the cashier, tucking the rose within the clench of his palm. It surprised him to see that the same waitress came to tend to him, a teasing smile on her face. Right as he was about to pass over his card, she made him gulp on his dry throat with a few words, "C'était votre petite amie..?"

The blond blinked. _What._ ".. _um,_ sorry?"

"P _etite amie._ " When he didn't respond, she only giggled underneath her breath and shook her head, ".. that girl, your girlfriend. Are all women you date like that?"

Oh, so _now_ she's speaking _english._

"What – _what,_ no. That wasn't my– _she wasn't my girlfriend._ " His cheeks flare in obvious embarrassment. ".. She isn't exactly my.. _type?_ Yeah. I mean, I suppose she's alright, but I prefer a little.. _more._ " Now that he's this close to her and they're having an actual conversation, he can't help but ogle at this girl.

 _With those gentle cornflower blue eyes and that little quirk of her lips that formed an actual smile._

"You adore _french women_ , it seems."

His mind is a blur and he's focusing so hard on the way her mouth moves, separa _ting and moist and–_ god. He can hardly comprehend any of the words she's speaking, nor even his own bare thoughts.

".. french...?" The boy's words are slurred now, and his cheeks heat an unbearable red.

" _Oui,_ " She winked, and before he can realise it, she's already leaning halfway into the counter, in towards him. "You've been ogling at me since the beginning of your date, haven't you? _That's not very nice_ , chéri.. you should pay careful attention to your _lady friends,_ she's probably harbouring a death wish towards me right about now."

And, before he could hold himself back: "– Wh _en do you get off your shift?_ "

The girl didn't falter her smile.

And, when she took the debit card from his hands, allowing him the smallest flicker of her touch.. he couldn't help but feel a strong sense of familiarity, looking directly into her eyes.

" _Non,_ that's a secret."

"..."

When she'd handed him the receipt, he couldn't help but be just the slightest bit offended at that firm sugary smile that never once tried to leave her expression. " _Merci!"_

.

.

.

.

Harsh wind blew against his cheeks and the blond did nothing more than tighten the scarf around his neck.

He waited there, standing still until he heard a familiar _honk_ and a vibrant red sedan being parked by the curb, signaling the arrival of his pick-up. The male straightened his shirt before walking along the pavement until he'd finally reached the vehicle's door, opening it non–too–gently as he slipped into the front passengers seat and relaxed into the warmth of the heater.

What the male had expected once he closed the door was a soft greeting from Gumi beside him, her usual politeness in the morning almost always being the first thing he hears on monday morning.

Instead, he's greeted with the voice of another. More pitched, loud, and obnoxious all in all:

" _God_ , you look horrible."

 _Ofcourse he would._

He'd _just been outright rejected_ saturday night by th _e first woman he'd been interested in for the past five years,_ and she didn't look even the least bit apologetic about turning him down. Sunday was spent and completely wasted with mourning about his nonexistent love life; he hadn't worked on that due assignment until hours after eleven'o'clock at night.

Len merely closed his eyes and threw his head back with a groan.

And Gumi just _had_ to bring Miku along, didn't she?

It didn't help that the tealette had been bothering him the entire day with her repetitive phone calls, urging the blond to give them a little bit of information from the date he had the previous night, A snicker underneath her breath, and the girl sitting in the backseat piped up again, her nasty face visible through the corner of his gaze. "Oh, scratch that, my humblest apologies.. apparently that's just your _face_."

It's surprising, really, how she can go sounding all sincere when he doesn't respond to her voice on their phone calls yet when he's right here, merciless under her gaze, she pulls out all of her insults and uses them with glee.

Gumi, _much different from Saturday morning,_ didn't seem supporting him either. Instead she pulled down the gear shift and settled both of her hands on the steering wheel. Her green hair was pushed from distraction and she began reversing the car, "Don't mess with the grinch, he hasn't had his daily intake of caffeine yet."

"You need caffeine in the morning? My bad, I'd forgotten and ordered de– _caf_ for you."

Giggling, Miku landed a freezing cup between the gaps of his thighs, making him squeak from the ice and hastily lift the drink between his own palms.

When she noticed the sour look on her junior's face, the girl threw a neatly–kept braid over her shoulder and leant across his seat enough for her chin to practically rest ontop his shoulder. "Lighten up, Lenny darling. I was only joking."

He lifted the cup up with suspicion–

"Caffè Vanilla Frappe, just the way you like it – _Oh, come on,_ don't look at me like that!"

" .. _hm._ "

Len took a careful sip.

And then he settled back, easing into the seat and fixing the seatbelt along his waist while he observed the moving scenery beyond the windows.

"You're giving me the silent treatment again?" The tealette questioned irritably. "You've already done enough of that a while ago, can't you just let go of things for once or are we really going to dwell on this forever?"

 _Silence._ "Look, I get that you're still bummed out about being dumped by your old girlfriend but that was half a _freaking_ decade ago."

He didn't bother to speak a word.

Another long, _long_ sip of his drink, and she only fumes.

"Every _single_ time, I swear. All I'm trying to do is help but what do you ever give me in return? _Nothing!_ Instead you ponder your hours on thinking about that pathetic puppy love you once harboured in high-school and decide that you never want to move on. Have you ever considered what she's done, she _left_ you, she's probably married by now and definitely not bothering about you. Are you hoping that if you wait for her long enough, she'll end up coming back just to cry at your feet? Wake up then, because _Rin's_ gone and she's never coming _ba –_ "

"– St _op the car._ "

His voice is cool, although demanding and the blond's cold glare is enough to freeze up her tongue.

Gumi blinks a moment, loosening her grip on the wheel. She hesitated. "Your classes are starting early today, right? It's only a few blocks, I can drop you off closer to the university."

"I'll be fine, just need some _air._ "

".. no, you just want to leave because I mentioned her _name._ " It wasn't easy to get Miku to shut up for long however. Just as easy as she deflated, she came back to life, a flame lit in her eyes as she grasped at the hem of the leaving boy's collar. "You're scared of a _name_ now, is that it? You're scared because of a bloody name–"

" _Miku,_ knock it off." The other girl finally defended.

Before they could hear any more shouts of her protests, he'd escaped the car, slamming the door loudly behind him and walking ahead, away from them.

 _Going his own way._

.

.

.

.

To say he wasn't exhausted would be a complete lie.

He'd spent the entire day running from one class to another; declining Gumi's offer of dropping him off directly infront of the building was a huge mistake, but the stubborn part of him insists that he'd made the right decision instead of spending the entire day with Miku Hatsune's jaws snapping at his heels, trying to bite at every step he takes so she can finally bring him down.

It was a given for him to be late, and that only takes more from his freetime, forcing him to self-study.

German lessons have taken a toll on his heart, and his mind has completely punctured from writing five essays in three different languages.

 _And he couldn't take his mind off her._

That girl, with her dimples and her thick, blonde lashes fluttering against her cheeks. He couldn't keep the image away from his thoughts, her uniform.. a knee-length dress which smooths an elegant black over her body, followed with little white intricate patterns of dandelion seeds along the material. Her hair tied into a tight bun with her fringes pushed to the side to fit the shape of her gentle chin.

That was enough to make him come back.

So now he's sitting alone in the corner of a crowded french themed coffee–shop, waiting to catch atleast one glance of her.

Just _once,_ and he'll try to sate himself forever.

 _Once._

He'd kept glancing back and forth between the cashier, trying to spot that waitress. All the staff waiting the tables were male, and there wasn't a single sight of that slender figure. Maybe she had a late shift tonight, or she just didn't work here anymore. Maybe not today, or maybe not ever, _he'll never see that smile again.._ her image is still burnt fresh into his mind.

Deciding not to waste on his time, he'd pulled his laptop from his bag and typed on the open keyboard of his laptop, trying to get the last of his studies finished instead of working on his distractions. Len took a slow sip of his green tea.

It didn't take long until there was a presence beside him.

A soft giggle, and she leant closer on her stool and tapped on his shoulder, enough for the male to turn around in bewilderment; She wasn't wearing that black dress he last saw her in – instead draped in a warm thick beige coat and leggings that reached long enough to stop just above her thin ankles.

"Studying?" She leant in, a teasing tone.

 _Oh, she came._

Len felt himself heat up _just a little,_ ".. yeah. _Yes._ I'm in my second year of university."

 _Not that she'd want to know._

"Ah, _je vois._ I see. You're still rather young.." The blonde hums, pushing her stool closer towards him and leaning in, "You've got a nice face, too.. have you got a girlfriend, or are you one of those virgins that rather focus on their studies prominently over the more punctual way of life? Then again.. I can't help but assume that the reason you're here is for _me._ Is that right?"

Her gaze captivates him, and he can only manage to whisper a breathy _"yes"._

 _And that smile._

Lord, her beautiful smile. Reaching each corner of her lips and blessing him with the opportunity to see it once again. He can't help but feel his heart quiver. "Not even denying it. How cheeky of you."

A gentle snicker underneath her breath.

"It's too bad you didn't know I don't _serve_ here on weekdays. Although I can't help but wonder.. what could a _young man_ like you possibly want from someone like _me._ Hm.. could it possibly be.. _faire l'amour avec moi?_ "

Len felt his throat dry up and he gazes at his laptop screen a moment, noticing now that he'd been spending the past five minutes writing complete gibberish on his notepad while she'd entranced him. Clearing his throat, the blond erases up his mistake and taps a finger across the empty keyboard before turning to the girl.

He can't help but let his curiosity get to the best of him, ".. that is?"

"Sex."

The male immediately felt dry in his throat.

".. Excuse me?"

"Isn't that what you want, _Len?_ You're craving it, you _lust_ after it, you've been _so_ deprived.."

With that, the young woman leans closer, her fingers just barely gracing the definition of his jawline and her knees practically sitting between his own in perfect relaxation. She's close enough for him to breathe in a nostalgic waft of citrus, and he can't help but notice how the image of her cleavage is visible through the front of her top.

But he isn't low enough to stoop to _that_ level.

"No, _no,_ " He's frantic to deny, eyes wild. "That.. that isn't it! It isn't what.. what I _want_ from you. Atleast, it isn't just _that_.." His bottom lip trembles from the embarrassment, easing back on his stool to get further from her. A moment later, it seems as if a shot of lightning strikes him, ".. hold on, where did you hear my name? I never told you my name."

A smile, and she giggles underneath her breath. "A woman has.. many ways.. intuition, you might assume.. ah, _but..._ "

"What's your name?" He says suddenly.

The young woman across from him broke into gentle laughter, her palms cupping beneath her chin. "You're rather fond of interrupting me, aren't you? Especially in regards of speech.." Her breath fans against his cheeks, and he's trying his best to seem to avoid the very redness that crept up his heated skin.

 _"Your name._ " He insists.

Len's left to frown in dissatisfied terror when she stood from the stool, gulping down the last of her hot chocolate – _he hadn't noticed that warm cocoa smell from earlier: but now that it's already gone, he can't help but ponder_ – and then threw him a careless wink as if he hadn't asked her a single question.

 _".. the mystery is what spites lust."_

And just like the stream of air bursting into the cafe whenever the glass doors flew open, she floated along with her presence, leaving nothing left of her trace. Just like the wind.

.

.

.

.

He sits cross–legged across the television, thumbing through layers and layers of pages and trying to find something worth enough for him to waste time on. A stack of books, biographies, photo albums – are all piled high beside his lap and he's trying his best to find something to focus on.

Sometimes, as he searches through his journals, an occasional chipped photograph would slip out.

An image torn by the edges and dusted with age, with her arms wrapped tight around him and grinning at the camera.

He'd stare at it for a moment, and then tuck it back inside the pages.

Miku's been harassing his inbox for the past nineteen hours, and he's sitting snugly, bundled up inside his warm blanket and sipping onto a mug of hot cocoa as he tried to search for a recipe he was _sure_ that _girl_ had left him once before. She'd failed at making an apricot and cinnamon tart that she planned for the week before valentines' day, but still ended up giving him her own written instructions after a few compliments on how the charred crust didn't taste bad at all.

 _Valentines' day.._

He hasn't celebrated the occasion in a _long_ time.

Thumbing through an album filled with images dating back from more than six years ago, where he was in his fourteenth year. She'd still been flustered about the thought of holding hands with him in public, and he'd only ruffle her hair before slinging an arm around the girl's shoulder with complete ease.

Len can't help but bring his mug up, sniffing at the warm chocolate.

That _girl.._ the waitress, she was drinking this too, _wasn't she?_

 _Rin's always loved cocoa._

And he'd been so pathetic for knowing it all along, _knowing it from ever since the first time he saw her,_ yet pretending to find her a stranger while she acted oblivious enough to 'seem' as if she had absolutely no idea who he was, hoping, _wondering_ possibly, whether he hadn't recognised her in the first place. Rin's a brilliant actor, really, he's always admired how she could fake her tears just so she'd be able to make others bend to her will, sometimes giggle even through her worst days. She's like a witch spinning the purest of gold along her fingers, recklessly, as if it had no worth compared to her wit.

 _But she's never been able to lie to him._

 _French women,_ she says. . . she really should've tried to fake her _accent_ more.

Len grunted underneath his breath when he held up a picture from five years back.

A few days before she'd gone. It's unmistakable, everything he'd seen in her reflecting the same image as that _irrelevant waitress who'd just taken his order that one time;_ same dimples, cheeks, those lips that he'd kept pressed against his own on colder nights.

Oh, and those _blue eyes._

It's faltered from the last time he saw them, the usual spark in her childishness gone. Her smile didn't hold the same mischievousness as it had before, either, and he silently mourns the loss of her previous youth. When he flips further into the book, he finds more hidden treasures, her hairclips, cards and poems they'd written for each other from before.

He can't help but brush a thumb fondly across the text on one of his cards.

Written by her own hands, dipped in perfect ink and a quill she'd gotten from an antiques' store, she'd gotten so excited when she saw it and he was left chiding her the entire evening for wasting her money on an over–priced product that they could've gotten for cheaper online.

But still she'd pout and claim that it just wasn't the same, instead pushing him to take a seat across from her on the table as they tested out the ink.

 _How childish._

Perhaps that's why he's attracted to her in the first place.

 _'you are my number one  
_ _❥ –rin'_

Her number one? If he asked her whether he still _was_ , would she answer with a yes?

Tucking the note away, Len stared up at the ceiling.

His own thoughts are blank, and he can't help but wonder what's _happened_ between them, whether their relationship was a childs' play right from the start and emotional investment was never a part of the deal. (Or just hers, atleast.)

He'd missed sneaking kisses onto her lips in between classes, her quick embraces being his daily greeting every morning, or even the midnight calls they'd exchanged on cold nights whenever they'd caused a fight and she wouldn't feel particularly settled about heading to sleep without at least parting on good terms at the end of the day.

She'd always done that.

She's always had, until the last time. Until he'd waited until late in the evening infront of his school gates, waiting for the moment she'd come bouncing over to make him encase her in his arms. He'd already planned the entire day out: mapped everything he'd do inside his mind. He'd been excited that day, ready to get everything over with, wanting it all to just _end._

And she'd left.

It was almost nine when he realised she wasn't coming; the schoolgates were locked up and he'd made the pact to visit her school instead the day after, instead of allowing the girl to waste her time in coming to his.

She wasn't there.

She didn't visit his school even a hundred days after that and no matter how long he'd waited outside the compounds of hers, counted down every single person that left the gates and marking that she wasn't among them - she never arrived. Her house was empty and she no longer took the occasional long route home just to spare even _fifteen minutes_ to spend with him.

 _And he hadn't once thought of her._

Silently tucking the books back into a cardboard box – _one filled with items he hadn't bothered to assort since the time he moved into his flat –_ Len only frowned in irritation when a slip of paper escaped from one of his books.

He held it between his fingers, lifting it up to examine the written script.

.

.

.

.

No normal young lady would expect that right after her shift on sunday evening, she'd be greeted face–to–face with a blonde 'stranger' who'd latched his grip onto her wrist, breath hazed onto her cheeks and his blue eyes blinding her with that same gaze he held to make her his prisoner from all those years before.

But Rin _had_ expected it.

She knew he was going to realise it soon enough.

And maybe he'd chase after her, scream apologies in her ear because he _knew_ she'd stumbled in on him that day, he _knew_ what went wrong and he easily let her slip through his fingers. It's like she's a worthless dime within the arms of rich gold. He hadn't loved her, and she had been led on as if a dog foolishly trailing her master. And he's _here,_ after five years, he's here.

He'd lost all of the gold, and now he's come crawling back for the dime.

The girl couldn't help but choke back a laugh, feel as she was limply pulled out from the safety of the corner cafe, and held against a brick wall.

" _So you know._ "

"Your name," He mumbles, bringing back bitter memories from days before.

"It isn't all too proper for a man to have a young lady, _a stranger no less –_ – pressed against the wall of a narrow alley during broad daylight, do you not think?"

A laugh, and she tries to wring herself from his grasps.

But he tightens his grip, leans in further and gets in enough to trail his lips across her neck, exploring every nook and cranny he once had before. It's familiar, the smooth skin he'd once marred with his own marks were now pure yet still tattered and stained by the years. Her innocence had been lost, and he can see that it's been taken in more than one way.

"Your _name.._ " Len tries again, his voice reaching higher in pitch.

But she laughs again, she _laughs and laughs,_ because she knows it's the only thing that will get to his head.

Her happiness; he wants to take it, doesn't he?

Wants to hold it within his very own palms and give her the hope of a happy ending. He'll scatter her in love, show her all those little quirks of him with his smiles and his grins.. and like the idiotic dog she was, she ran after him, _chased him_ while she prayed that he'd give her more. But he's vile, twisted, _sick._

 _The only reason he wants her is so he can crush her at the very last minute._

"You already know it, you already do," Her head is shaking and golden strands are fanning into his gaze. She grins again, and another laugh escapes her throat – but this time, it's pained _._ "Don't act as if you don't, stop – stop acting as if you don't know everything, as if the entire world is a bloody _game_ to you."

"Stop it," He hisses. "That isn't what I asked you."

"Have you ever asked me anything? You're cruel, disgusting.. I'm just another irrelevant piece in your puzzle, the pawn on the chess board, your little rag _doll._ "

"I _told_ you to _stop it._ "

"And _you think you're so smart,_ as if everyone is meant to bend at your very fingertips. _Bastard._ Your own _mother_ left you, she _hates_ you, and you used me. Admit it, you used me. _Me._ You know who I am, don't act as if you're so oblivious when–"

" _Rin._ "

Silence.

His heart skipped a beat when he'd finally said it, muttered _her name_ after so many years of treating it with great disgust, as if it were taboo. Days, weeks, months, even _years_ of keeping her fresh inside her mind, wishing for the embrace of nobody else than her. Her warmth, her sugary sweetness on the worst of his days. Comforted himself, _touched_ himself while imagining that it was her who kissed him, _savoured_ him in that way he'd always craved somebody to.

And he could tell her breath hitched too.

He's leant in closer, burying himself into her neck and taking in her scent. This warmth he hadn't felt for too long before, and now that he's gotten a little taste he's far too desperate to have the entire package.

But this.. isn't her.

This isn't his Rin; his princess who would lighten up his days even through the darkest of nights.

Her cold words are distant and separated, and he feels it's as if she's lost touch of herself, her warmth. "Rin," Len repeated, his hands moving from her wrists and instead circling his arms around her waist, pressing their bodies closer together. He can't help but let out a weak sob, ".. Rin. _My_ Rin. _Rin, Rin,_ Rin.."

 _His_ Rin? _You're disgusting._

 _Let go of me._

 _Let go of me. . . !_

She's revolted. Knees threatening to buckle up and fall.

"That's right, you have my name. _Get off._ " Rin tries to push him back, nose wrinkling.

When he looses his grasp and stumbles off a little, she notices that his eyes are red, sore, and she can't help but feel _not even a single ounce_ of pity for him. He deserves this, he deserves this so badly, he should be shot, chained, kept somewhere far away where he'll never be able to see her again, _find_ her. "Now that's done, it's over. _Y_ ou have my name, you've _got_ it. Now just leave, don't ever try to find me again," She fixes her dress and holds back that elegance of grace, "I don't _want_ this. I don't want _you._ "

His breath hitches.

 _I don't want you._

 _She can't,_ _she can't,_ she's the only one he's wanted. _She's the only one he craves,_ she _has_ to want him, she has to crave him in the same way he's lust over her. Len moves back enough until his back hits the wall before rummaging into his bag, pulling out a warm container – sealed air–tight and still withstanding an extreme amount of heat.

The blond takes a deep breath. Smiles. ".. okay. I'll go – I'll leave you alone.. but I wanted to give this to you.."

It's forced into her grasps, and she narrows her eyes at the sight of the glass container.

"Apricot and Cinnamon tarts.. your recipe... you wrote it a few years back, I couldn't get it out of my mind–"

Funny, _really,_ how she's never before been in his mind on the first place. She's never his first priority. Rin lifts the lid, and narrows her eyes into a small glare, staring at the burnt crust around the edges and the perfect cream in the center.

She bites back any horrible retorts, wanting this to be the very last time she'd have to see him.

"It's charred around the edges, isn't it?" A moment passes. "I don't want it."

".. hm?" He looks as if he hadn't heard her correctly, lips turned into a prim smile.

" _I don't want it._ "

 _CRACK._

She drops the bowl to the floor and watches as it cracks, scatters across the asphalt, tinted cream and crust flying by her heels and glass managing to scrape the open skin of her toes. He'd jumped back in shock and he could only risk another glance up, trying to look at the girl directly in her eyes, meet that _terrible_ gaze.

"Anything from you, anything at all. I don't want it."

And she moves.

Her heels click against the ground, and she's glaring at him without moisture in her eyes.

". . . You're leaving?" Len says, halting her a moment. "You're going, just like that..?"

He'd spent the entire night reading up on theories, rules, what to cook and how to make everything completely _right._ He'd done it just the way he had seen her do before, made it charred around the edges because he wanted her to feel a significance, to know that he's been thinking about her every single night.

And she'd broken it, left the glass shards to pierce across the ground like the broken pieces in his chest.

She doesn't answer.

Her silence is enough to make him crack, and the blond reaches out for the lady's wrist – tugging her along with him despite her shrieks and loud protests. She's hitting at his arms and he's sure that if she takes anymore, she'll break down and cry – but he _wants_ that. He wants her to scream and bawl and wail until there's nothing left for her to do other than to jump into his arms, beg for his comfort.

Their feet slam against the asphalt and glass shards fly everywhere, threatening to scratch.

But he tugs her away, forces her along with him and opens up the front seat of his car, forcing her in.

She's practically stumbled on the seat and he pays no mind as he clicks the lock to deny her escape and buckles up his own seatbelt, working out the little quirks to tighten the girl into her own seat.

"Let me out. _Len,_ let me out–"

"No," He's stubborn, shutting her up with a glare. "Don't speak a _word._ Don't speak a _single word._ "

"I've got something to do. I'll have to report you for abduction, you can't take me away like this – like – _like_ you own me. Like I'm your idiotic little play doll. This isn't what I want, you're not allowed to do this,"

A scoff.

And, to shut her up:

"Maybe I _do_ own you."

.

.

.

.

"You're a bastard, I don't want this –"

"Maybe you don't, but have you ever given a _damn_ about what _I_ wanted?"

She's trailing behind him with her bare feet padding against the carpeted floor; her other hand is holding onto her heels, deeming it far too tiring to wear after having to be dragged around by him from one place to another. He's holding a deathly grip on her other hand, enough until there's a forming bruise around her wrist. He won't let her go now, not after an attempt of her trying to jump out of the moving car in her desperate attempts to escape from his grasps.

Does she loathe him _that_ much?

She almost collapsed when he forced her into his apartment, door locked behind him.

"Let me out," The younger woman cries, "Let me out, let me out – you can't _keep me here_ like this!"

He'd confiscated her phone, locked it up inside his bag and taking it far out of her reach.

"You're _hurting_ me. _. you're always hurting me.._."

Her voice is soft now, and he can't help but feel his heart ache at her words. Taking his own shoes off, he'd pressed her against a wall again, watching as she'd gasped a little in surprise and turned her head the other way – the blonde dug her fingers into his waist in preparation to push him away if he'd done anything she didn't want.

A step closer, another, until their bodies are pressed together.

"Look at me," A soft whimper. " .. please."

"I've only looked at you, I've wasted my _entire life_ looking at you," She snaps in retort, her eyes visibly hazed. "I won't waste any more. Let _go_ , let go of me. I have plans, I'm late.. I need to... go. _Mmphn._.!"

His lips ravage her mouth, and she almost screams. He's stealing her breath, taking her lips and exploring it, _tasting_ her. It's amazing, fresh, and oh so _delightful._ He hasn't tasted her for so long, and now he's finally gotten it, felt her mouth forming, melding against his own and the tendril of her tongue choke against the back of her throat. When he parts, a waft of steam and a trail of stray saliva still connect from between their lips, and he only resumes his actions to latch onto her neck, kissing a trail up, reaching her chin.

 _Rin can feel his breath against her skin. It's heated._

She can't help but crave it – in her own way.

".. Alright. I'll let you go."

He finally slackens his grip, taking a step back, and she's left stirring in confusion, staring at their feet.

But he holds onto her again.

".. one last time. I promise that I'll let you go, just.." Len mumbles, glancing at her lips, and then to the floor. " _Make love to me one last time._ "

.

.

.

.

"Don't... don't look at me like that."

"H-h _aah..._ like w- _what?_ "

"Like... _that._ Like you're disgusted with me, like- _hnn_ – like you want.. nothing more than my existence to fade away."

.

.

.

.

The first sight she met in the morning was something she hadn't seen in too long before.

Nor something she's felt.

A larger presence encasing her, wrapping her up in her own warmth. A nude body, tangled up in his own sheets and barely covering up his skin.

An arm is wrapped around her and she's snuggled into his figure as well. It's disgusting, _revolting._ Last night he'd dragged her to his flat, stripped her down to pieces and devoured her body as if a young boy merely enjoying his treat. He'd taken her, taken her over and over again and she's left to scream on breathless cries before she was forced to reach her own assent. Yet, like the traitorous wench she was, like a pathetic _whore_ , she enjoyed it.

But she doesn't forget.

She notices that, right beside them on his bedside table, there's a firm picture of her standing up, a grin on her lips.

The picture is already aged, about seven to five years at the least and she briefly wonders whether it's on purpose that the first thing he wants to see in the morning is an image of her, and it's the same during nights. But it may be that he's already planned this, maybe he'd already realised who she was weeks before and she was the only oblivious one not to see.

It doesn't take long after her to realise that he's awake.

He blinks, once. Twice.

His eyes, calming yet bright blue, always luring her deeper. _(But she doesn't want to fall anymore, not now, not ever.)_

It's like there's a spark setting off in his eyes when he looks up and notices that she's there, _right beside him_ , and her marred body is proof of what they'd done.

What _he'd_ done. "I'm going.. let me go, it's late.." She adjusts her body to the side and grunts underneath her breath once she'd found his clock. He only tightened his grip on her waist, his nose finding way to breathe in her delicate scent and kiss her neck. "Let me _go,_ haven't you already taken enough?"

But he wants more, he wants to savour each and every single piece of her.

A gentle ringtone began to sound.

Once she's wriggled her way out of his arms, she went to retrieve her items from the floor and slipped on her strewn clothing, taking them onto her body layer by layer while she conversed on her phone.

 _".. so he's alright? Oh, thank god."  
_

 _"... I'm so sorry, thank you for taking care of him, this won't ever happen again - yeah.. yes, three hours at most."_

 _"Ah, I don't think . . . yes, take care of him for a little while longer, please.."_

Len groans softly.

When she's finally off the phone, he sidles back up, crawling to the side of the bed while he watched her every movement like a hawk admiring its' prey. She's covering up her decencies and he's still laying down in bed, watching as she'd prepared to leave. "You're going already..? So soon, just like.. that..."

 _He'd been foolish to hope that one night with her would give him a chance._

She'd fixed her shirt in place, flipping her locks over her shoulder and turning around to look at him while she tied her hair up into a smooth bun.

"I am." Rin breathes, massaging her cheeks in place while she'd stared back into a mirror, trying to fix up the best of her appearance. "I suppose we won't be seeing any of each other after this, yes?"

It hurts.

 _It hurts how she's acting as if nothing ever happened._

As if _nothing_ between them has changed.

"You haven't had breakfast yet, you could take a shower at the least.. I've got a heater, I know you enjoy warm baths.. don't you?"

" _You don't know a single thing about me._ " The young woman snaps, before fixing her fringes in place and locating her bag, hung up in the distant corner of his room. She supposes he'd moved it there earlier when she didn't realise. ".. It's fine, I'm running late for something. I could just grab breakfast and dash to a stall afterwards."

"... could I drive you, atleast?"

" _Len._ "

"I'm sorry, just once. I know I'm pushing it too far." First this, and then that - _with her, it's never going to be enough, is it?_

He finally settles on standing up, retrieving his own clothing.

The younger blonde doesn't bother watching him dress, instead staring outside the window absently and admiring the grey skies beyond. Her fingers dig into her own waist and she only stares at him once she's sure he's fully clothed.

He opens his mouth as if to say something– only to shake his head and move towards the door.

.

.

.

.

"You didn't have to send me off."

"But I _want_ to," He murmurs a little in return, his grip on the steering wheel slacking and him pulling over to a curb, watching as the girl straightened her back and fixed her appearance in the mirror. "You're being awfully persistent with your looks this morning, aren't you?"

As if he'd know.

Her neck is dotted with faint bruises and her lips are swollen beyond relief, but he looks down and averts his gaze.

"Alright, I'll head off here.. don't – _don't_ look for me ever again."

".. I've _got_ it already."

"Goodbye, Len."

Before he can utter any words in reply, she's left the vehicle and slammed the door behind her, legs moving at a frantic pace as the female did her best to escape from his sights. He's sat there for a moment, his head pressed against the glass of the window as he contemplated on finding something else for him to focus on, watch her fading silhouette, _know_ that he's already gotten his fill and he shouldn't ponder on this matter at all.

She's made her request, and he'll do his best to fulfill his end of the deal.

After, he'll throw away all of her images, burn them down to ashes. He feels like it's crucial to do so now that he's seen the look on disgust that flashed across her features after seeing her photographs dangled along his walls.. But he can't help but _pry.._ after a minute of hesitation, he contemplated on whether to leave the vehicle or to follow her in tow; she's far in the distance now and he doesn't think she'd even be able to realise if he'd decided to chase her down the pathway wearing party heels or blowing a horn into the air.

 _Don't look for me ever again.  
_

They're still moving the same route out, however, so the least he can do is watch her in the final moments. The very last time he's allowed to think of her, _dream._

He began moving the car, slowly trailing it by her side, just a _little_ behind.

She'd walked a long way through some rows of stores and near a highway just before reaching what he'd assumed was her destination – a building in the distance, painted in gentle shades of yellow and being surrounded by a garden of flowers, bright red roses and gentle shades of pink.

A nursery..?

 _But–_

Before Len could let his mind wander further, he could only watch as a young boy streamed out from the doors none–too–excitedly, eyes clenched tight and his curled golden hair strewn behind him in the wind. The child latched himself along Rin's leg, and he could see the young woman giggle as she bent down and lifted the youth into her own arms, scattering kisses over his cheeks.

But that wasn't it.

 _That wasn't what he saw - focused_ on _most.  
_

It wasn't until the child opened his eyes did he _see_ – bright, cobalt blue eyes that reflected his own, chiseled along the narrow slit of his iris, a knowing grin over his small lips.

The child had _his_ eyes.

.

.

.

.

* * *

 _ **Happy Valentines Day!  
**_

 _ **This is the longest chapter I've ever written, a ha ha ha a.. . .**_

 _ **I posted an incomplete version of this, if anyone from before noticed. It's finally done and the first chapter is complete now. I might still making small edits here and there to fix up any grammar or spelling errors. I apologise for the mistake if you happened to be among one those that stumbled upon the unfinished doc.  
**_

 ** _Here's a (possibly 70% wrong) translation dump:_** _.  
"Je vois"  
"I see."  
_

 _"Ah, Madame..! Je vous prie de bien vouloir m'excuser; je ne comprends pas, parlez–vous français?"  
"Ah, madame. Please excuse me, I do not understand. Can you speak french?"  
_

 _"Un.. un peu."  
"A little."  
_

 _"Qu'est-ce que vous voulez commander? Est-ce que vous voulez quelque chose à boire pour commencer?"  
"Are you ready to order? Would you like to start off and choose a drink first?"  
_

 _"Un moment.. ce que vous recommend..?"  
"One moment, could you recommend..?"  
_

 _".._ _oui; du thé vert et de la Brioche.."  
".. yes; green tea and Brioche."  
_

 _"C'était votre petite amie..?"  
"That was your girlfriend..?"_

 ** _writing this took an unbearably wrong time and i pretty much postponed actually writing anything down until the last minute, binging on dark chocolate and candy canes. i actually missed valentines' day in my country and i was extremely pissed until i was reminded that it's still valentines in other countries so . . . i am not a complete failure ha ha ha!_**

 ** _still, happy valentines to all._**


	2. Chapter 2

**_ohhhh my god this chapter was horrible i want to die. goodbye everyone neame will not write again for approximately five™ centuries, okay, i'm done. let me blow away and drift in the wind like the shattered hopes and dreams. but anyways as a quick summary, in this episode: len deals on making a decision between maturity and childishness, miku becomes slightly even more intolerant by forcing drama into other people's lives and increases the language of her vulgarity, while gumi bakes cookies.  
_**

 ** _(the more i write the worse everything gets, i need to be Held)_**

 ** _but anyways, there's more Rin Rin here. i guess that's fun._**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _hi friends let us Not_ ** _  
Warning:_** _this chapter does not feature as much of a Psychotic Len as the previous one, but ummm, uh, angst_ _(also more rin_ _ちゃん service)_

* * *

.

 _ねぇ、儚い_ _ことばね_

「ずっと、いっしょう に いよう ね」

 _季節 が 巡って、大人になっても まだ  
しんじて いい の ?_

.

.

Smoke. Dust fills her throat and grime bleeds through once-brightened eyes even while all vision went dark. Dark, dark, dark going on and on until she could no longer see. Her voice is lost and skin raw; the storm blows above and there's the rapid pounding of feet as if a thousand young men being sent to war. But beyond all that, the sound that rang most was the soft coo of a newborn's sigh.

Gentle, piercing, burning through her ears, begging for warmth.

But her heels were cut from grass, and water that once barely reached her knees now towered below her chin, four walls holding her in. Running out of air, the only thought left worrying her mind was that she was going to drown.

So she closed her eyes and dove.

.

.

 _Open your eyes._

Three words, three simple words – none too valuable in meaning nor having too much of significance in any other normal youth. But even so, those _unimportant_ words were the first ones to wake him up the morning after.

The sheets still smell of delightful citrus and the picture frame standing across his bedside table is still gleaming back at him yet he's missing that warmth on the bed he held just two nights before.

He can't help but clench his fists deeper into the covers. Swallow on his parched throat.

With a shaky exhale, he sits up, glancing to the side and _hoping_ it wasn't a dream; or at the least praying that he was allowed to stay just a few more moments in complete euphoria, imagine her touch dancing across his skin and those lips murmuring nothing more than the beautiful chants of his own name.

"... ha... hah..."

Reluctantly checking the watch along his wrist, he'd shielded his gaze from the sunlight seeping through the blinds with his other arm, keeping it pressed just over his forehead.

Almost six _–thirty_ , _huh . . ._

A bitter laugh choked into his throat as he fell back into the mattress – turning to his side, admiring the image on his left. The blond reached a thumb over, carefully brushing just across the surface of the glass. The image of _that_ smile – _her smile,_ and nobody elses'. _(But that boy had the same grin, didn't he?)_

.

.

.

.

.

"Great work again today as always, Rin!"

Cheeks flushed, sweat on brows and hair straying in every single way.

A breathy laugh escaped from her throat.

The evening sunlight dawned beautifully across powdered flesh as an elderly woman took a seat beside a lithe doll and began work; using a warm cloth to wipe off coloured dust and spoiled residues from tainting what happened to be perfect porcelain on it's own, and by doing so, allowing a natural glow to brighten the room. The lips managed to seem a brighter red, fresh like blood cherries, even after wiping off paint from it's mouth and it was no longer possible to deny the truth: this _creature_ was the reason why so many would dare to travel throughout the continent, journey along grassy mountains and through steep cliffs, go through extremes all in search for an inn near the outskirts of town where it resided.

It was a fatal attraction, but a powerful one, nonetheless.

She wasn't a doll – not really, despite many claims, but she very well could be.

Rin couldn't help but smile. Her fingers were painted with the lines and marks of stars, her eyes closed as all the makeup was cleansed from the top of her forehead, her chin, and all down to her neckline. She resisted the urge to break into a fit of laughter– removing the paint on her neck was always a weakness of hers. "Thank you very much!"

"Are you heading anywhere else after this? I could treat you to some drinks... coffee, maybe.. "

The old woman finished up the removal ritual and left (not until after Rin expressed much–held gratefulness, the powder _was_ getting horribly itchy) and she found herself alone in the room with only the aid of a sun–kissed mirror, glowing wood and her rather antsy friend who was already preparing to head home by himself for the evening.

"I'd love to, but you know how it is.. I've got a half–day here tomorrow, and before that is my shift at the cafe." Her lips curled in regret. "It's already getting late and I don't want to force him into being there any longer than he has to."

The man shook his head and offered a hand so he could help her to her feet. "No, it's alright. Even _I_ can understand how busy you are."

"Don't say it like that!" She grabbed her coat from the corner of the room, slinging it around her shoulders and forcing her mouth into a pout. "Yuuma is _just_ as busy as I am. _Besides_ , there's the fact how you're extremely hard–working along with being better at opening free time for yourself _and_ much more efficient at getting things done."

"Considering that I don't have to balance the weight of a three–year old child with every step I _take._."

Well, if he's going to go all the way and include _that,_ there aren't any qualms.

"Alright, you're fine. I win."

Rin couldn't help but grin.

When he noticed that she'd already grabbed hold of a bag from the corner of the room and was about to shed out of the heavy gown and step into more casual clothing, his throat immediately went dry. The thought of a young woman changing in front of him was more than inappropriate especially without the company of a bigger public or anybody by their side. She didn't seem to give much thought of his presence in contrast to the inner turmoil, easily pulling apart the clip in her hair and allowing soft golden tresses to fall in a perfect line above the shoulders.

Yuuma decided to hurry the courtesy by stepping out of the room and pulling the door close behind him, back pressed against the paper wall. He could hear a soft giggle at the action behind him.

"Don't just take off your clothes like that! Hold on, stop laughing–"

"No– _no,_ sorry! I'm not laughing at you. It's just that you reminded me terribly of someone."

"Were you laughing at that _'someone'_ as well, then? I pity that person. The lord must've cursed them."

A ruffling of cloth, followed by silence.

He could tell that she's thinking. It's like a well–rehearsed play, a musical, and he's memorised it to the end; a soft hum of breath, a rustling of fingers across sheets, and the lightest tap of toes across wood. His eyes close and he can almost feel her warmth beyond the walls, her laugh filtering through the trees like an unavoidable breeze.

But she didn't laugh.

Not yet.

Her voice came slow this time. Uncertain, as if a single slip could cause the world to break away and she'd be forced to go dive in alone and pick up the pieces before it all fell apart. The creaking of wood and her quiet drumming across the windowsill could be heard, but he doesn't dare comment on it in fear of slipping over a mistake. So he stays still, watching the view through a window and seeing a pool of warm water waft up into steam. The sight made him feel oddly cold inside, almost as if he's stepping on needles and climbing up a wall of thorns. Or perhaps it's just her lack of response that drives him to the edge.

He could hear a grin in her next words, however. "Don't be. He's certainly been blessed with beautiful eyes – the best in the world."

Yuuma offered a small smile in recognition. "Your son?"

It isn't rare for her to speak of the child, cooing about the new things he's picked up or how he's finally managed to pronounce another word. Tales about the soft curls of his hair, and the deep blue of his eyes. Oh, yes, _always_ his eyes. How she spoke like it could rival oceans and rivers, even the clearest skies. How tears could brim in them and somehow seem like mere constellations in the night, and his gaze locking you into universe, left to wander and be hidden amongst the stars. He couldn't possibly blame her either; he'd looked into _those eyes_ once, himself, and it was exactly how she said it would be.

Rin often claims that she's being selfish in her decisions, constantly putting the child at the back of her mind and making him face a cold world, but he knows it's quite the contrary. Everything she does, every move she makes, it's all in dedication of a boy just barely the age of four. _That boy is.. very lucky._

Her voice was barely audible; ".. rather, the one who gave it to him."

 _(Someone who looks over love like the passing winter breeze.)_

All life died in his throat. The young woman emerged from the room fully clothed, a thick coat already tied tightly over her bodice although it's already reaching the end of winter. Her thick lashes seemed just a bit wet but she seemed to conceal it well with a brightly lit smile and the careful brushing of golden fringes above her eyes. Years of practice must've taught her well.

 _Never show how you truly feel,_ he remembered someone once tell him, _Or it'll rip you apart in the end._

So stand straight, chin up, breathe, and _smile._

That must be something she lives by.

He has never, _not even once,_ seen the lovely Kagamine Rin cry.

"I'll go home for the night, if that's alright, Yuuma?" At his nod, she patted his arm and made her way through the corridor, heading forwards to the opposite side of the building. Even the mere rub of her feet against wood was capable of sounding like a perfect melody, but it could never rival a laugh from her chest. "Then, take care."

Nor the soft, sweet nothings, she whispers in the dark. The songs she sings into the night.

But that's something she reserves for one person, and _one person_ only.

After leaving the inn and following through a sidewalk, she began her daily custom of walking home. The sun was waving it's last hues of daylight. Being held back by clients was never an interest of hers, though it happened by a frequent occurrence, and each time never failed to consume her by worry as each minute ticked by. In colder days like this, she preferred working at the cafe where it was closer to the nursery and would only take a short five minute's walk before she could drag _him_ into her arms, but that just wasn't possible.

Guests are more attracted to the springs during the months with shorter daylight seasons, and more people meant more demands on _her_ time.

Whatever schedule she had was already blown into ruins. It would take more than thirty minutes just to get to her home from where she was, even if she ran. The Inn was situated right in the purlieus of town, where she had to take two different trains just to reach. But they paid her _well,_ enough to cover the expenses of transport and the bills for her living accommodation, all with only the sacrifice of time. _That's_ why she could no longer afford to waste more.

Rin turned the curb and ran up a winding staircase, hopping onto an escalator and almost crying in relief when she felt a blare of warmth run across her cheeks. She reached the rail station in _– a quick glance at her watch–_ a record time of five minutes!

She must've sped faster than the speed of early summer's wind.

Boarding a train, waiting for her stop, getting off and letting the weight of her legs lead control over her heart didn't seem to take much longer either. It seemed her body could process things more quickly than her mind, and in times like this, _maybe_ it's not such a bad thing after all. No sight could've possibly _ever_ taken over her being more than when saw _that building_ again, just a few steps out of reach. She stepped past the gate, felt her chest weave through the roses and the grass, had her _arms_ stretch out when she entered the building and could hear that familiar pounding of feet rush towards her. A sound she could recognise in a heartbeat, a feeling she could never forget.

Small arms wrapped around her waist, a head buried in her stomach.

A soft giggle, one that was voiced uncannily like her own.

She bent down, scooped him up in one smooth motion, and held the boy to level with her gaze. When she kissed his nose, he kissed back. "Coucou, ma petit prince." Rin cooed. Her arms tucked underneath thin legs and she pressed him close to her chest. "Tu m'as beaucoup manqué aujourd'hui! As–tu passé une bonne journée?"

"Oui..."

She could sense he was tired. His body had transformed into a complete dead weight for her to balance within the matter of minutes. The boy slung his arms around his mother's neck and buried his face in her shoulders, small mouth throating a yawn and his restlessness kicking as a small whine.

The soft glow of the night cast down on their shadows. The skies, a contrasting shade of lilac and dark violet, no more orange filtering in to spread the sun. She's got here a bit later than usual, but she's glad the lampposts had just begun turning on their lights; it isn't too late for her to fetch him, seeing as a number of other children were still waiting along the walls. The city was beginning to ascend to a new stage and with every minute they stand out, the air becomes cooler, signaling the oncoming winter.

 _Oh,_ she really craves a hot bath right about now.

Hopefully her little darling won't think about making a fuss to clean up before dinner and a nap.

Wiping the dust from his nose, she noticed the child had a soreness on his left cheek. "T'as fait quoi?" The woman frowned, rubbing a thumb over the red spot. He whined, trying to turn away. "Lui, ecoute–moi!" Getting a little boy's attention, especially when he was on the brink of sleep, proved to be no easy struggle. "Tu as fait une bêtise, non?"

"Non, maman."

"Oui?" She pinched the sore, earning another wiggle in her arms. "Where did 'oo get this, then? Mm? Un puits d'eau? Un _avion?_ "

"Donner _sa langue au chat!_ "

The little imp.. maybe she should nibble onto his skin until it's a bright pink, _then_ he'll know how to tell her how to tell her what's happened.

Rin placed the child on his feet and took off her scarf to wrap it snugly around his neck. He yawned sleepily at the action, burying his face into her body and releasing a tired whimper with arms already stretching up for him to carried again as per ritual. They were interrupted by a woman tapping her shoulder.

"Good evening, Rin, here to take him home already?"

"Evening, Yukari! Yes, if that's alright, unless there's something we've got to do?"

"No, no, of course not. You're absolutely fine to go home for the night. Though, Lui fell at the swings when he was playing with some of the other kids earlier, thought you might like to know. I've already rubbed some cooling ointment on his cheek so he shouldn't be able to feel it for about an hour or two. It's best if you could reapply some afterwards."

"That explains the mark, then. Will do. Thank you for always taking care of him!"

She'd made her way to retrieve his bag and shoes at the entrance, slinging it over one of her shoulders and hoisting the child's weight onto another arm. By the time they boarded the next bus and caught a seat, he was already knocked out with his forehead on her shoulder and soft snores were beginning to escape his throat. Rin couldn't help but smile, peppering kisses through his curled locks while admiring the darkened skies. The stars shone brightly above and she admired how soft the light seemed on the boy's cheeks.

By the time they reached home there was only a dead weight on her shoulder.

Rin threw off the small shoes, taking off her own boots and stockings before laying him across the couch.

It didn't take long to load up the bath with water, strip off the rest of her outfit (and wrap up into a nice robe) before taking off the child's clothes. She'd cradled him carefully as their body descended into the warmth – only to feel a frantic jolt against her heart a second later, interrupting the peace. She buried her nose in the top of his head, trying to calm the boy down.

 _"Shh... shn, you're alright– calme-toi."_

 _"Non.. maman, l'eau est froide.."_

When the young woman cranked up the heat and fixed his position over her lap, the complaints ended; after the bath she had him dressed in stripe–printed pyjamas while she went with a loose singlet and shorts. He barely even stirred when she dried his hair and pulled them underneath thick blankets, curdling his head towards her chest. Bright, blue eyes sleepily peeked up, and she saw the entire world for a whole moment, right within the palm of her hands before kissing it closed.

She waited until the soft breaths were level with her ears, and then she began to sing.

.

.

.

.

.

Finding someone whom you've always associated with words such as bumptious, conceited and overall selfish to the point where they can hardly give a single crap about how someone else might think– standing outside your doorway soaked in rainwater and tears wasn't exactly a common sight. He'd only seen it twice within the five years they've known each other, so to say he'd pulled her in, no questions asked, loaded up a bath and prepared two mugs of steaming cocoa while she washed herself off, was expected. The carpets were dry by the time the woman finished and she was wearing the damp clothing she arrived in.

Len opened his mouth.

He closed it again. Open, close, open, as if trying to figure out what to say. He settled with a soft, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Miku was quick to shake her head. "No. You're not exactly the best person to talk to about things like this.. you're the complete _opposite_ of a doting mother." She laughed weakly, a fist nudging his shoulder. "I'm alright. Or, at least I think I'm alright. Mostly just confused. Oh, fuck me."

"Gross. No."

"I didn't mean that, virgin."

Ha ha. If only she _knew._

Still, Len threw that thought to the back of his mind, there were more important things to worry about. He leant back into the couch cushions, taking a sip of his drink and almost suffocating when he'd taken in a large gasp of marshmallow to the back of his throat. She didn't seem to notice the quick struggle, instead facing straight ahead towards the television where her absent gaze tried to focus on the news channel– it seemed that another schoolboy has managed to jump onto the rails this evening– at the one close to their university. The station immediately closed off from public entry and Len felt an inner sense of relief.

It's a good thing he'd decided to take the _car_ today. He doesn't think he'd be able to stomach lunch if he'd seen that. He will never understand the people who made a decision with that type of method. If you wanted to end your life, why make such a mess out of it?

Just as the news official began stating when the train would get back on the line, Miku snatched the remote and switched the channel. They were now met face to face with Thomas the Train and it took a ripped groan from his throat before she nudged her toes against his knee and turned the entire screen off.

Her lashes batted thickly, and her long hair pooled across the couch. "My life is destined for _disaster._ "

Should he ask? No, probably not, he really doesn't feel like it.

Even if he didn't, she'd tell him anyways.

When it comes to him, her mouth is like a speeding motorboat. "Maybe it is. Why did you come over here for? It's not like Gumi isn't home, she's free until Sunday. Besides, I thought we weren't talking to each other considering that little expenditure with _Asaka Mayu_ and how you've been throwing paper balls at the back of my head every single time we pass each other in the main hallway."

"Oh, you knew about that?"

"You weren't exactly subtle." _Thanks for the slimming flyers, by the way._ Very informative. Maybe he'll go for a treatment when he's in his fourties. "God, oh no, please don't cry. You've got the most disgusting face ever when you cry, like a _monkey.._ you start having this little drip of snot dripping down your nose onto your lips, and then your cheeks get red enough that it spoils your makeup, and then you start sneezing from the lack of oxygen and that when bacteria starts spreading everywhere–"

Miku seemed to have enough of his insults, taking the entire tissue box from her _current_ comforter's lap and bashing it straight at his face until he's left whining at her to stop.

But it was the result he wanted.

Better anger over tears. While sadness makes your chest ache to a deadening halt, he'd rather it pump until you hurt to breathe. Len _knew_ Miku.

Just like the back of his hand; every little quirk, whatever insults he needed to use to make her snap out of her emotions, or any other means of coping mechanisms.. and though she thinks she's got the same kind of insight across his own mind, she's better off reading historical literature and attempting to piece it together before being able to predict whatever he's thinking about. Most of the time, at least.

She's allowed some lucky strikes every once in a while. "You're such an arsehole!" She shrieked, plummeting a pillow into his stomach. "You're right, I should've just went to Gumi. I thought maybe I knew _you_ better, but it turns out I don't!"

See? He _does_ know her.

And he knows, in times like this, it's better to make her push off some steam.

Okay. Maybe not really. He just wants to scream at her in return.

It's an equal trade. "Me? _Arsehole?_ Who's the one who always meddles in people's lives?!"

Yet neither understood how he'd managed on top, wrenching the object from her hands and using it as an offense. Len bent her knees and Miku dug her elbow painfully into the younger blond's stomach until he was left heaving for his own life. It's been _years_ since they've last had a messy fight like this and neither truly realised how much they've missed it.

Hell, but his bones still hurt.

He's getting old, too ー Len isn't that fit child who can run an entire ten laps across the town and still have energy left to spare anymore. That is to say, he has never been that child in this _first place,_ but that doesn't mean he wouldn't appreciate more shows of sympathy. Clearly an impossible dream, coming from Miku Hatsune, especially with the way she's pressing her knee into his stomach and pulling at his honeyed hair.

"It's not meddling when you're my responsibility! Your love life is _MY_ love life, don't you understand that?!"

Freaking _psychopath._ "I don't. _I don't,_ and I never will. Just get a grip, why do you have to bother me when you have an entire world at your ultimate disposal? You just hate me that much, is that it?"

A pinch to her waist. A kick to his shoulder.

He somehow managed to wriggle free; circling all across the room snd distancing their bodies when he heard a beep from his phone. Might as well focus less of his energy on her while he can

"That's not it at all! This is the problem with you, see?! You're _always_ seeing the negative side of things and have never _once_ given a shit about how down other people might be feeling or whether their emotions are real. It's like the entire world is a joke to you! Newsflash, it isn't, everyone is just as unloved as you are and the entire world is falling to shambles anyways so stop making it seem more broken than it already is!'

"You have problems? _YOU?_ Like what ー running out of mint bars inside the fridge?"

When he checks his notifications, seeing that one of his old colleagues sent him a message, the young man doesn't even have time to unlock his phone before it's knocked out of his grip and onto the floor. He immediately cradles it to his chest and begins an inspection to see if any crack was damaged.

"NO – more like finding out my girlfriend is a married woman and that I've been involved in an affair for the past two years."

Oh, yikes.

That seemed to be the last straw. Len stopped his jabs, instead pressing his hands to her shoulders and forcing their gazes to meet. Miku was choking on dried tears, and he forced the remaining wipes to clean off her face before managing to calm herself. His eyes stared further, as if to say, breathe in. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, and she did.

And the flat was quiet once again.

He stiffly put his device back in the coffee table. "Really? That what's–it's–name, Ia? _Aria?_ I didn't know you were in an actual relationship."

"Don't say her _name._ "

His face grimaced.

As if he should _actually_ respect her wishes. "You always say the names _I_ don't want you to."

"Fine. I'm sorry–" She wiped at her snot. He offered another tissue. "I won't say _that girl's_ name anymore either." Not that he's as affected by it as before but he'll appreciate the gesture all the same. _That Girl_ still leaves a foul aftertaste to dance on your tongue at the quickest thought of her laugh. "She's got a husband, did you know that? All nice and tall and well–built, plus older than us, to boot."

Older? _Ouch._ That's it, Miku, your relationship has come to a complete end.

 _Just find someone new to crush on like you can do every other day and you'll be fine._ Not that he can easily say that no matter how much he desires to. She'd get even angrier, and they're not even supposed to be on speaking terms right now. It's a bit stupid that the whole idea came to a surprise to her, that girl practically came bouncing on their university campus with a diamond adoring her ring finger and now there's someone actually moping her sorrows over something so trivial.

"I mean.. it was too good to be true. Someone with the exact same interests as me, someone who actually cared to listen about how I felt. It's just – it's just so rare. I'd been hoping, and yet..."

".. yet?"

"Her _husband_ was my ex–boyfriend!" Her voice broke into a wail. Len felt a vein pop.

Screw you, Miku.

And to think he'd thought it was something serious.

 _You jump between relationships like changing socks,_ stop acting melodramatic when we know you can straighten your back the very next morning. Len couldn't help but narrow his eyes into an irritated glare at her reveal and it took him less than two minutes to drag her outside his flat, knock onto the room on the other side of the corridor and practically shove the young woman into his emerald–eyed neighbour's arms, begging for support. He couldn't help noticing how her furniture smelt strongly of fresh dessert and he forced his mind not to be overwhelmed by the pleasant aphrodisiac.

Gumi seemed offended at the sudden dump into her home, though quickly changed her mind when she saw dried mascara stains on their third companion's cheeks.

 _No, it's not as tragic as it looks._ Len closed his eyes.

When he made way to move back into his own luxury of free space, she'd dragged him over to the kitchen counter where there lay an untouched plate of sweet cookies. His fingers didn't itch to try the batch unlike usual but his mouth still became an unwilling victim to the treat. "Hold on, I'm cutting back on sugar, it gives me migraines ー"

A ding of the oven. Another whistling sound of completion from the fruit dehydrator, where peeled paper-thin sheets of dragonfruit was waiting to be devoured.

Gumi's walls always smell sickeningly good.

Especially during her weekend desserts baking stride. He can always smell it across the hallway and through the open windows.

"Just one, please? I know you're not fond of cranberries but I need you to try it." She'd bustled around, passing Miku a glass of water before coming back to dedicate attention towards the oven. He could almost feel her eyes staring from the back of her head, trying to notice each and every reaction to the taste. "I only made a little, we've got new neighbours moving in next door and this is the welcoming gift."

So their old neighbours finally moved out? That's a relief.

All he'd ever heard from those people were raucous electro music and the indecencies to be loud in the dead of the morning as if they lacked the ability to sleep. Len crinkled his nose before taking a submissive bite of the baked dough, immediately feeling it melt like a golden euphoria on his tongue. After a hum of approval, Gumi set to work on making another batch.

The blond wonders whether she has any other hobbies.

It's rather concerning to think about.

Miku was gulping down her drink, staring absently outside a windowー shooting them wistful looks every few seconds as if expecting him to start up a conversation. _Ask her about her problems, definitely._

He doesn't know _how,_ though. Somehow they were on speaking terms again and it all happened in what seemed like a blink of an eye. Their spats and silent treatments never do last long, even from highschool, often stretching to perhaps at most a month before she comes crumbling down for another discussion so she could run off her mouth. When she caught his gaze, the tealette quirked a brow; though he could tell she was trying to hold in her tears again.

Figures, she wouldn't want to show _Gumi_ any signs of weakness yet expects _him_ to be able to find a solution.

Not that he knows why. Len has never been good at comforting people.

That's one of the matters in life that should be stated clearly as law. Those who weep, those who cry, he'd much rather act as if they never even breathed the same air. That's why he brought her over to someone like Gumi, someone who would actually _try_ to understand how you felt and feel a strong concern over it.

Things like taking time out of his own schedule..

He would do that for one person, and one person only. His stomach lurched.

And _now_ he must come to the realisation that he will never be able to do it again.

.

.

.

.

Her feet was already strapped into heels and she was setting up to fix his coat.

It's just past sunset. She would have to pick him up from a friend rather than the nursery tonight.

There's the large possibility she won't be getting home before the skies turn to dusk and she wants this boy to be at the most comfortable state if she'll have to pick him up past the bedtime.

The child was rubbing the sleep from his eyes with small fists, and she could hear a small whine come from his throat when she exclaimed how they'd have a proper breakfast outside today rather than just his preferred combination of dry toast with jam. As simple as it is, it's not good for his growth to be eating that every morning and she makes an inner note from her mind to go for a health check–up the next time she can open up a free slot on her schedule.

"It's not a proper meal." She said. "Don't you want to grow up, bébé? Oui? Get big and strong like Maman?"

Not that she was big and strong to say, but.. he looked at her right in the eyes, and her own reflected hope for one whole moment before he broke it all within just one word. "Non."

Rin strangled the urge to groan. "Bien. Je m'en fiche."

That seemed to strike something within his small body because the boy's back suddenly straightened, eyes wide, and arms looped around her waist until his face buried between her thighs. Wondering whether his outfit was uncomfortable, the young woman bent to her knees to pry him apart, pulling at the ends of the scarf around his neck so it'd rise above his chin and immediately feeling her child's head buried into her shoulders with that pitiful look that almost demanded her to carry him. She felt her heart ache at the sight.

He was born to make her melt like crushed ice beneath his feet, wasn't he. She's so horribly twined between his fingertips and almost cried at the sound of his glee when she scooped him into her arms.

It seems what she did made him finally open to the idea. ".. Pain perdu?"

Ah. Figures he'd want more bread.

"Oui." Rin agreed softly. "Pain perdu."

"Mouais.."

So they set off; feeling first heat of the oncoming sun upon their skin. Halfway through the walk, she'd gotten tired of the weight and set him down to walk with his own feet. The lilac–filtered skies seemed to contrast with his skin, and it challenged his eyes to see which would shine brighter. It was something she carefully observed by every passing day without failure and each time seemed more fascinating than the last. But he'd win, he'd always, always win.

.

.

.

.

Saturday. He glances over to the calendar, shifting his gaze onto the table and then to the boxes piled atop. The last time he'd gone through it had only been about two weeks ago when he'd been worried over finishing his assignments on time, worrying over his deadlines, worrying over everything everything everything –

Worrying over her.

It's been an entire month since then.

He'd already taken off the photo frame by his desk, instead piling it along with the mess of his other photo albums. It took a moment for him to sip on his frappe and peer hesitantly over the table, before he finally gives.

Just – gives. Sits down across the table and pulls the first album from the box to look through its' contents. The regret is immediate. Len finds going through the photographs much more difficult than they were before; the weight of guilt as if he never had earned the right to own them bearing on his shoulders. Images, one after another; an entire album dedicated to the day he got a brand new camera and spent the entire day wasting film on her ecstatic grin roaming the city. Polaroids, with his cheeks pressed against her lips or with two of her fingers held behind his head.

It takes all he has to not just rip it all out and toss the entire thing outside his window.

Instead he plucks them out, one by one, choosing off the pictures with her and settling them to the sides. Maybe he'll set up a bonfire just for the sake of burning all the memories away. Maybe he'll jump into the fire himself, then she won't have to worry about encountering his existence again either. Or he can just get it over and done with by stabbing himself with a pair of scissors right now. Then his ghost will be a welcome presence to the next people to move into this apartment. Right, he could even lounge on Gumi's couch for all eternity and watch as Miku gets old until she turns into her own fossil.

Yeah. _Brilliant._

"Oh, hell, the rain this morning is even wetter than that Akita chick when she sees our Literary professor on weekends."

Miku barges into his flat with all the casualty in the world.

She tossed her copy of his keys onto the kitchen counter.

Her vulgar mouth is greeted with his look of strong displeasure and she reacts by tossing a battered umbrella against the shoe rack whilst sitting on the floor to unleash a tangled mess of ocean blue hair across his carpet and peel off the damp stockings from her skin ー not at all recognising how he was still glaring at her for making a mess of his home.

"Don't even dare to look at me like that, you pervert." Like he'd want to ogle at _her._ High-esteemed narcissist. "I called you more than _six times_ to pick me up from the station and you gave absolutely _no shits_."

"Gumi has the car keys tonight, not me."

"Well, yeah, I know that now, asshole." She's still in a bad mood and Len has no idea why he's always the victim to each swing. "You still owe me. I need some drinks so I'm going to a mixer tonight and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

Oh. Wow. Not that he's ever even _tried_ to stop her before. Maybe Miku's already drunk ー what a pity, considering how it's still just past the afternoon and she could've at least worked more on progressing as a decent human being before getting everything in a knot.

"And you're coming with me."

Ah. There it is. The catchphrase.

Miku must've expected more resistance on his end because when Len looked her straight the eye, shrugged, and mumbled a solid _"sure_ ", her jaw fell open and body nearly doubled towards the ground.

Why not?

He's always been pining over one person with his head soaring over the clouds with never ending hope. That's gone now. The clock will endlessly tick, and as the world goes on, his heart will stop. No amount of time or hope can cure what has been broken but it can still cover up until any worries left were buried unseen to the last drop.

He's spent nearly five years waiting. How much longer does it have to be until every bit and piece of his sanity is chipped away?

Len's _tired. "_ On one condition ー I've got someone to meet before nine, so let me leave by eight."

The older woman seemed highly giddy, her braided locks practically flying in the air with a flash of teal. She'd grabbed hold of his hands and peered in really closely to his face, almost enough to get ticked off.. but he controls that nerve of irritation. Not tonight. He'll be more decent tonight. And that means no sudden outburst of emotions.

She released him and already made way back to the front door. "Yeah. Yeah, _yes,_ sure! I'll call Gumi over, wow, Len. Um, this is great. Great. Brilliant." One glance up towards the ceiling and she strapped her sandals back to her feet. "I'm going to see if I can borrow Gumi's heels then, maybe even her jacket, she's got that pretty one with bells up on the front that looks great with fishnetsー get ready by the time I come back!"

"Alright. Have fun."

At least _someone's_ enthusiastic today.

Len hadn't spent a lot of time in getting ready. A cold shower, a white sweater and a light coat. Everything he needed to be flexible and supply just enough warmth. When the tealette returned, she dragged him into the back seat of the car while she took the front passenger, enjoying the look of exasperation on Gumi's face. The woman was likely conned into being their driver for the evening.

She shot him secret glances in the rear mirror every few seconds, as if trying to find a flaw in Miku's persistence that _the_ Len Kagamine (local university student in a personal relationship with his bed), the _very_ Len who avoids social interaction like the plague, had actually wanted to attend one of her gatherings. _Willingly._

This must be a fake Len. Maybe an alien abduction had him switched for something else and the intruder is barely trying to keep it a secret.

"Len." She tried for his attention. "How are you feeling?"

"Like dirt."

Ahー no. That's Len, alright.

Gumi shot him a pitying look and Miku was far too excited to notice. After going across a mall to waste a few hours trying some crepes from the new cafe in town, escaping the chill of the outdoor afternoon frost, they'd had to get across to the karaoke bar where the mixer was held. He'd expected something like the recent party he'd attended with her, not too raudy but friendly enough.

That belief was heavily crushed beneath the pad of the closest stiletto's heel.

The place was steaming hot, almost too difficult to try breathe and he'd bumped into bodies of several people on the way.

Nothing went as smoothly as his mind had predicted. Just a few minutes in, and he'd already had to cover his nose from the stench of foreign alcohol and felt each corner of his head pound irritatingly from the noise. The people he met consisted from the range of college girls just a few years older than him that could drink a whole glass of strong vodka within one gulp and some men who were in their late twenties to early thirties, easily making him the youngest there.

Black light painted skins purple and made nearly everything hard to see, especially beneath the overhead shining lights.

It started off normal at first. Simple handshakes and introductions, where each person lived, likes and dislikes.

But it was when he'd asked to leave and Miku _ignored_ him, taking hold of the microphone to her lips did his endurance begin cracking. A man seated on his right got too close for comfort, placing a palm on his thigh and sliding it higher, higher, rubbing close towards the gap in front of his zipper and some _other_ woman turned in to try and shove her mouth on his cheekー Len had stood up at the speed of light. Gumi, who was sitting in the corner of the room, being coerced into drinking some beer despite her persistence that she'd prefer not to, looked very out of place.

So he'd reacted by grabbing the greenette by her wrist and leaving that dim hellhole into the brighter corridor outside. He'd changed his mind. He couldn't cope with places like these. Not now and not ever.

"We can't leave yet," She protested. "She's still in there."

"I don't care. I want to puke and you don't see her giving a damn about it." He's heaving for air and the older female cups him by the cheeks, forcing the blond to look her in the eyes. "Gumi. I want to go."

"Then _leave._ I'm not stopping you."

She's headstrong in her decision and they stand on opposite sides, both trying to persuade the other. Though in this case, nobody was holding the young man back, but he doesn't want to leave these walls on his own. Somehow it feels like if he had to do that, it would be the same as admitting defeat.

"Come with me." He'd urged. "You know she won't be leaving until morning, or until she's dead wiped out across the streets," _A close exaggeration_. But she'll still call his phone afterwards, and she'd whine at him to pick her up. "I'm not going home either. I just ー I guess I want to go somewhere better. Other than here."

If that's the only fate he can get, he'd atleast want some rest before being used as her pathetic little fetchdog as he always has been. Len's fingers tug desperately at his scalp and her shining eyes look down at him with that same emerald glow of empathy that does nothing to satiate that growing ache in his chest.

 _Don't look at me like that._

Gumi carefully pushes his hand away. She strokes his hair, and he fights having to close his eyes. "She's alone, Len. She barely knows anyone here eitherー but she's hurting, and she needs time to heal."

Miku Hatsune has dealt with over tens and thousands of break ups, and would only need another week before she's clinging onto someone else's arm. There's no need to dramaticise things like how she always enjoys it. How much longer does it have to go on before they end this career of being a whimsical college girl's only source of amusement? The patience he's been building up was already running thin on broken ice.

"I'm _hurting_ , too."

"I know that, Len. She knows that ー we both know that. And we're trying to understand. This is her way to cope, and she must've thought it'd be yours as well."

"But it isn't. It never is. I can't just meet someone new and move onー that's not how it works. That's not how anything works. A wilting flower doesn't thrive the moment you place it beneath the sun."

Water. Time ー _love._

Oh, _god,_ love. He craves it, like a man blind from birth that itches, even for only once, to see. Something you aren't sure you've felt but will pine for it until each passing breath that leaves your lungs.

But it seems he's alone in this time. "Look, Len.. go." Her thumbs are massaging below the tick in his jaw and he looks at the woman desperately, as if hoping she'd change her mind. Her emerald hair carefully curves the frame of her cheeks and that bitten lip held between her teeth. "I need to make sure she gets hope safe. I'm worried about you, _obviously,_ but I'm worried about her, too.. you've already got someone to meet tonight, haven't you? Miku will understand if you left."

"Yes, but you could come with me, I don't mindー"

Gumi shook her head.

"Go."

And so he did. Quickly, as fast as he could, to breathe in the freshness of cool night air and escape the dampness of sweat and steam.

.

.

.

Len had already made plans beforehand to spend the rest of his night chatting with an old peer through a late stroll in a distanced park. Conserving energy was listed first priority in his mind, but having to enter a crowded space in situations he'd often struggle with, all for someone _else's_ contentment was proven a difficult task and it spent a toll on his strength. It's not like he could cancel, either. Nor did he want to.

He needs to clear his mind, and this could be the reprieve.

Len could see the darkened silhouette of a man beneath the light of a thousand stars, the glimmer of his eyes just barely visible, shining, but never being able to compare to the skies above. There was only one person he knew whose tears could ever rival the universe, and that being constantly haunts his mind, never leaving him a chance to fill his chest with thoughts other than her smiles. Like she's divinity, giving you just one touch to ignite a flame underneath your skin and leave a frozen tundra in it's wake. And he is left to wallow in his own sorrow, lost, never being able to feel that spark again. Her entire being is sin, worthy of punishment; fingers to be scathed until they may no longer show warmth, and her laughter must be banished into the never-ending sky. His legs feel like lead as it works through the grass and onto the cobble pavement.

The sidewalk lead to the man, and Len felt the corners of his mouth quirk upwards in greeting.

At the age of twenty four, Kaito already held a dark gaze and circles beneath his eyes. He's aged maturely since the last time they've met, and the result was unavoidable. He was leaning against a lamppost, sticking an arm out to shake. "You're looking fine."

He had to stop for a moment. Take a deep breath, wipe all memories of the past few hours in his mind, before managing a response. "You look absolutely morbid, yourself." Len retorted, taking hold of it. "How's Meiko?"

"The wife's great. Fantastic."

"You've already married?"

"Two years, and expecting a little one in June." His friend waved his left hand, allowing the metal band along his finger to shine it's light. He murmured a thanks when Len expressed his congratulations. "I can see that you haven't had the same luck. Even Miku's incoherence couldn't get to you."

She's probably still at that _mixer,_ drinking her heart out.

The younger male couldn't help but stress his brows together. _Of course not._ "I'm nineteen."

Not to say he despises marriage, though the thought of it is only bearable when you think about the right person with their hands in your own– if not, he'd rather just cower back into a den and crawl under ten thousand mountains of pillows and sheets. Neither one of his parents bother enough to think about his well being, much less about retrieving a heir, so he's not under any pressure. Maybe he'll die old and alone in the countryside where he can swim past some arctic blue whales in the afterlife. That sounds good.

Being stuck in a limbo doesn't seem too bad either. Yet, Kaito only winked. "Only for a few more hours." His wrist flashed in the air, and he caught sight of the man's watch– the date and time lighting up the circular screen.

Len blinked.

"Oh, wow."

 _It's already this date, huh?_ How fast the world goes. You blink your eyes only once and you've already lost track of time.

"Wow indeed" Kaito slung an arm around his younger companion's neck, a wide grin on his face. "You don't look particularly too excited about it– so, what do you think, growing up is hard, isn't it?" A fond tilt of his head, as if reminiscing an old faraway memory. "I remember how the best part of childhood was always staying up until it hit midnight on your birthday."

Well, yeah. The blond can barely manage to stay up after ten o'clock on _weekends_ now. There's no point in pushing yourself against the limits unless you've got an assignment overdue or had too much caffeine in one helping and find a need to wander about in the dead of night to wipe off all that fatigue inside your system.

The last time he's tried to keep awake on purpose was nearly _five years ago,_ having to check his phone constantly with eyes peered open for any new messages from her like an ant walking on hot pavement. That didn't turn out too well.

"Have you eaten dinner?"

"I'll be honest, I haven't even had _lunch_ yet."

Other than swallowing down whatever vomit was rising from being stuck in _that_ place.

"That's not exactly something to applaud. Oh well, there's an inn nearby that I frequent, it's rather famous for the hot springs. We won't necessarily have to stay the night– I couldn't anyways, that woman will have a _fit_ if I'm not home by sunrise but it'd still be nice if I could pull you over for some rice and drinks. Unless, of course, you've got lessons tomorrow and have to return early?"

A dismissive wave. "No; sounds good, let's go."

And the journey continued. The next bus came at eight sharp in the form of a double decker, lighting up the streets with dim headlights and curtains shielding the windows. It was nearly empty and went through several different roads to drop off the guests on–board before finally reaching it's final destination for the night; a structure built of clay and wood on stilts that was surrounded by a lake of steaming hot water; glistening beneath the moon almost as if taken straight from a storybook.

Neither felt really inclined to stay in the baths for too long, the air far too cold, enough to freeze you up by very minute you take one step away from the warmth.

Not that Len _really_ took a bath– merely sitting by the rocks and watching as the other male seemed to enjoy whatever little time he had away from home. The stars above glimmered and shone and he couldn't help but admire every single constellation he could see. Yet that small, simple momentary bliss wasn't allowed for too long and after leaving the water, Kaito had went behind a desk to make a _request_ and drug him into a room afterwards for a 'special session', though he had absolutely no idea what for and why.

Traditional dancing, was what he got as a reply. _Entertainment._ This inn was the only place left in their side of the country that offered such shows and professionally trains their employees a culture that spun from years of heavy dedication and rich lineage– and there was only _seven_ such places left in the world. While not exactly something you'd go for every single day, it's an experience you'll want to see at least once within your lifetime. Or so he was told after nearly half a million reassurances that he hadn't walked into a twenty first century brothel or was secretly being led into his own grave.

His companion drunk at a glass of rice wine.

The blond stuck with green tea.

A bell rang from the outer corridor and the door slid open to reveal a sylphlike figure, draped in rich cloth and a veil shielding her gaze; The air seemed to freeze at her presence almost as if time had stopped, and as a perfect contrast, it warmed instantly when the woman stepped into the room and began to move. Like a feeble moth drawn to passion, his gaze couldn't stop drinking in every step in like viewing northern lights in front of your very own eyes for the first time and having the itching reminder that it could just be your last.

It wasn't a lie: this was something he had to see at least once in his life. And, for a moment, he wished it would never end– or at the very least for him to see it over and over again until the world can no longer spin.

Each movement brought in a suffocating draught that made it feel as if he were a desperate man wandering the desert and she the only mirage of an oasis to grant reprieve. That _bothersome_ paper fan blocked her view and he craved nothing more than to _see._ But that was what he thought. Until her gaze was caught beneath the veil and he met eyes with pale blue pools, almost as if ice.

And at that moment, he felt as if he really was drowning.

She left soon enough to leave doubt spiraling within his chest and, after a few more drinks, Kaito brought up the subject about how it was perhaps time for them to make their leave; they went back through the front of the building. The eldest among the two was tapping away on his phone, messaging a friend and turning his gaze towards the blond every few seconds as the next destination was contemplated on. His dark blue hair shone against the dark, blending in with it, and his eyes mixed in just the same.

Finally, he spoke. "My mate is going to drive by to pick me up. Do you want to come with?"

Tonight wasn't exactly the night of making new acquaintances. He's had enough of strangers.

".. no, the train station and my house is the opposite way so it'll be a bother; I'll be fine with walking home tonight." Len responded, his head tilting up to stare at the sky.

The door behind them creaked open and the familiar presence joined them on the steps, leaving a cooler atmosphere to the ending winter night. Len spared a gaze to his side, watching that same light blue eyes peering straight into his face until they couldn't help but breathe into the same air. He felt the light breath against his skin and Len can swear that he has never, in all his years of life, react as fast as he did then; jumping back and almost falling over his own feet.

"WO– _WOAH_!" It was a screech. A very low one, mind _you–_ "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Nothing– just looking at your face. I hope you don't consider that a _sin._ " She responded with all the nonchalance in the world. Yet, there was that irritating grin on the young woman's lips that he felt the urge to wipe off. "Good evening, Kaito! I barely had enough time to greet you earlier! You won't be staying over at the inn tonight?"

"Hello, Rin! You're looking positively splendid – I'm afraid the wife wouldn't allow me tonight."

She shrugged. Her hands stuffed into the pockets of a jacket that seemed far too large for her body. "No, I don't imagine she would. The thought of how she'll react once you're exposed about having drinks without her is frightening; though perhaps you're making the right decision considering she can't consume any alcohol in the current state. I'll keep in mind to prepare flowers in advance for a funeral."

"Ever the sharpest thorn in the batch, your words never fail to wound me! Ah, but I'll have you know that my favourites are _orchids_."

Len rubbed at his own shoulders awkwardly, trying to get in some heat to protect him from the coldness. There was no snow– that's melted long ago, but it's impossible to feel comfortable in this type of weather.

They remembered he was still there by some miracle.

Kaito widened his eyes, pushing the younger male forward and Len almost suffocated on his own air. "I forgot to introduce you! Len, meet this inn's idolised Rose Petal, the very reason why this business is flourishing as well as it is: Ka– _ga_ –mi– _ne_ Ri– _n_." He held an important air by every syllable, and watched as the young lady's grin widened by each passing second. "Pretty girl, is she not?"

"Oh, don't say that! There's more experienced veterinarians here, I just came at the right time."

"Modest too."

"Oh _no!_ "

After that moment and several more gushing of compliments and denials, a car drove by the road and settled beside a sidewalk to pick up the passenger it awaits. Kaito spared another concerned question on whether Len would be able to get home alright from her and it took an irritated retort from the younger male about how he's drunken and even more hopeless in comparison to someone who only drank in-concentrated leaf water, the man bid them both adieu and left the pair in the night beneath the scattered array of stars. Len chanced a look towards her, noticed she was looking away, and swallowed the cut in his throat.

Maybe if he'd just walked the opposite way, she won't bother to care about him. Right. He'll do that.

Just as he took a step, he could hear her voice just beside his ear. "Do you even know how the roads work here? You're walking the wrong way."

"W–wha! Don't follow me!" He'd leapt a distance away from her. "What do you _want?_ "

The knot in her brows proved she was finding him troublesome.

"You're completely _gone_ if you think you'll be able to get home by walking over _there_. You'll only meet dead ends ahead and the last bus for the night was boarded a little over an hour ago. If you want to catch the fastest train before the station's closed, follow me – I'll make sure you won't get lost."

Her hand pointed forwards and his bottom lip trembled.

A difficult decision to make; one he's not too sure will be the right choice either way. Either spend his night looking around or get a torturous leeway. Neither seemed appealing, though he still chose the latter and went with her. As they boarded the transport he saw her back leaning against the glass, looking vacantly towards the passing scenery of faint flowers as if it were merely another sight you could perceive every other day. Len almost fell into a lifeless trance, watching every movement from the tender tuck of a golden ringlet behind her ear, or even the soft popping of her lips every time she parted them to breathe.

And he tries to forget how they felt like. How they'd feel across your skin, how every whimper and every gasp she makes sounds like a melody sounding right by your chest. He wanted to snap out of his reverie, but the longer the minutes spent without her acknowledging his gaze, the more he felt inclined to stare. Her cheeks were a rosy tint, an effect of the winter's cold, though he himself feels particularly warm in his coat, almost enough to drown in the heat – years ago, he would be able to raise his arms and tuck her beneath his chin, state that he'll hold her until she feels ready to take her steps away. Now the thought is so far away, shut and locked into the deepest parts of his mind.

His fingers itched in his pockets, and he forced himself to shut his eyes.

You're disgusting, _disgusting, disgusting._

And she's told him that herself, so who is he to believe any different. The crowd in the train emptied by each opening of it's doors, until soon they were left to be the only passengers in the void. Her foot was tapping for a beat, and his ears listen intently, trying to discern the rhythm and see if it was anything he could recognise. Anything to grab hold of a distant memory, something to keep him there.

Her eyes landed on him when he finally relaxed enough to focus his attention on the city lights from the glass. Now might be the time to speak. "I didn't know.. you worked there. My friend just dragged me over– I wasn't trying to find you, I promise."

Rin blinked. And then in came her signature smile, flashing teeth, rising cheeks, and Len felt something throb within his chest. "I know. I've been told that I'm rather talented at recognising _atmospheres._ You can relax, I wasn't accusing you of anything. It's all just coincidence, isn't it, and there's a rare chance that we'll meet each other ever again after this."

That felt oddly sharp.

"Right." He responded, a horrible scratch at his throat. "Just coincidence."

The young woman must've noticed how that made him uncomfortable because she leant forwards, not allowing the conversation to die down. It's times like these that makes him _appreciate_ the way her intuition works. She always was the one who could read him the most– but that's possibly because she could do the same for more than a million other people. Rin has never not been aware of whatever went on around her, whether good or bad– she was special in that way.

Well, except for _that.._ but he'd rather _burn_ the thought like pieces of scrap paper in a forest fire.

"Rather, the only thing I'm concerned about is why you were there in the first place. Don't you need to study? I thought you said you're currently in university; if so, you shouldn't waste your education away. Dedicate more hours to it."

 _Wow, she's pretty._

"It's a weekend."

"Doesn't matter. You should study."

Len made a face and watched as she stuck her tongue out at him.

 _Cute,_ he muses silently. But that thought was immediately slammed down with the back of his hand.

Might as well try out for his own part in the conversation. The last time they met wasn't on ideal standards with the _car situation_ and he tried to force out the idea of yellow painted walls, flowers, and blue eyes from his head. Despite the foulness they had a close relationship once and he'd be foolish to push the comfortableness away even if it's something he'll be able to enjoy for little less than an hour. "Didn't you work at _that cafe?_ Why here, so suddenly?"

"I still do! You can work at more than one place, _Len._ " Even _satire_ sounds sweet in her voice. He repeated his name inside his mind, trying to replay it in her own tone.

Len. Again, Len _, Len, Len._

But there's no point in getting too comfortable. This was something to encounter maybe only once more in this lifetime. When you're trying to move on, dreaming too long will tarnish the roads that have already been built up. That small momentary flutter in the chest, the happiness that can make your heart swell enough until it's ready to burst. It's dangerous. _At the best vulnerability._

He doesn't _like_ her anymore. Perhaps there was a time where every breath was made to convey his love and every thought was consumed by her voice, her _laugh,_ her _smiles,_ but now it's better to bury all those thoughts beneath the dirt.

A switch in the conversation might be best.

If he wasn't wrong, she enjoyed hearing about either the stars or the weather. "Spring is coming, isn't it? There's hardly any snow in the colder places now– not to mention the heat in town; people have already stopped covering themselves up in scarves and coats last month."

"Oh, I don't think so?"

Rin stretched out her arms to display her outfit.

Too thick for this weather, seeming like she'd piled on four different layers of jackets and yet somehow still managed to look freezing cold.

The girl straightened her back, spun once, and almost whipped him in the face with her own scarf.

Each open and close of the door makes their bodies shake and he watches as she clings onto the railings ー reminiscing how once, the only thing she would've held on to was his own hand.

"Haha, you're _obviously_ an exception. I think the question should really be 'when are you _not_ wearing warm clothes?' I'm sure you'd go bouncing around in cardigans and jumpers during summer if you could–" You don't know a single thing about me. Her voice replayed in his mind, and Len's words stopped on his tongue, rubbing his neck with the back of his palm. Saying that was a mistake. "Sorry. No– I don't know the way _you_ dress anymore, butー yeah. Yes."

Any capability to draw a sentence was lost to him as he stared at her once again. The clock was ticking, and Len knew their moment together was soon to end. A thousand questions built up on his tongue and he wanted to ask her about so many things. How was she, where has she been, did she miss him like he's been missing her, why did she leave.

And even ー _do you hate me?_

But now wasn't the time or place, and there's that strong reminder that it never will be.

The doors whirled open, and he felt his hands roll into fists as she perked up and confirmed that it was her stop, that she wishes him to have a good night. He almost held onto her wrist, told her not to leave, wait with him a little longer and have them talk this all out– but his teeth bit down onto his tongue and he only mustered a weak smile to see her off.

He doesn't like her anymore, he doesn't. Not anymore, _not anymore,_ not anymore.

They no longer have anything to do with each other. Once, there was a strong bond, almost like it was built from a fairytale but that ruptured to sand and memories will remain as memories like water forgotten across the desert. But just as the door turned to close, the blonde spun around, shot him a blinding smile and left him speechless all over again before saying the last few words she'd decided to grace him with. _They will never see each other ever again._ "Oh. And, Len?"

"Mm..?"

"Happy birthday." Click.

The doors slid shut, and he could no longer open it; standing still as the commuter began rolling it's wheels once again and she waved at him from beyond the glass, pressing one hand against her mouth and throwing it to the air as if she were blowing a chaste kiss; Len cautiously lifted an arm, checked the watch by his wrist, and felt his throat dry when he saw the time. Twelve o'clock sharp, not one minute later nor sooner.

He doesn't _love her_ anymore.

But when she does things like this, he doesn't know _how_ to feel.

.

.

.

.

"What the fuck."

"Oh. Good morning."

"Good morning, my damn _arse._ You don't _promise_ to follow me out somewhere and leave halfway through, arsehole. I was worried the entire night whether you'd decided to go for a roof and offed yourself but now that I have a stable mind to think about it, you should've, because at least then I wouldn't have to see your stupid face ever again."

And to think they were _just_ getting along a day ago.

Their eldest friend stood awkwardly to the side, short green hair looking as if they might turn into grey in another month if this kept going on. Their arguments were far too habitual and there's nothing else to look forward to. It's the weekend, and she wished she'd attended that seminar at her school rather than stay at home just so her life expectancy could deteriorate by more than fifty percent. Her fingers continued tapping on her phone and she knitted her brows to seem busy although they all knew she was just playing among one of the million rhythm beat games. Her sound was muted but the tempo of her fingers were easily recognisable as music.

Len hadn't even said he'd stay the entire night. Sure, maybe he left an hour earlier than promised, and when returning home, had his phone muted so he could enjoy a longer stroll through some alleyways to gaze upwards towards the distant stars and city lights. He'd only been absent for eight hours at most. According to Miku, waking up in Gumi's bedroom with no memory of him being around the previous night seemed to be the end of the world.

Now she's here before the start of dawn.

She'd interrupted his late reading by banging the door at five in the morning. It must've disturbed the neighbours, because he'd heard something that sounded uncannily like an irritated groan from beside his paper-thin walls.

"You know what you are, Len? An arschloch. Yeah, arschloch. You should've just gone out and never come back. Suck a _dick._ "

No _thank_ you.

Sometimes he wonders whether she forgets that this is his house.

Each passing day makes this girl's mouth get worse and worse. His mother would disapprove greatly.

At least she wasn't in _tears_ today; instead glowering down at him like he were an ant waiting to be crushed. As expected, after the previous night all memories of her break up had flown away. She stood back up like a flag pole during war, and he was forced to seethe. Leb wished he had the same level of talent– that is, not giving a shit. Miku only needs one day to recover from a break up, while he.. is still lost. He doesn't know when he's ended up here, nor how, but that's something he'll have to give more time on. Everything will move just as the wind goes.

"Fickfehler. Geh zum Teuful. Du mich am Arsch lecken."

"Nein," Len corrected, a tick in his jaw. "Du _kannst_ mich am Arsch lecken."

It's been a custom practice to correct her grammar in German classes, and now might not have been the best time to put that habit to use.

Now it just sounds like he's picking a fight.

Miku seemed to be scanning the room for the nearest object to hit him with, and he almost cried in relief when she decided against it, instead strapping on her boots, handbag, and claiming that she wants to return to her dorm; leaving through the front door with her coloured hair in complete disarray– pigtails flying behind every large step of her feet.

The trio became two. To hell with it all.

He can't handle her today.

He's too tired yet can't bare mustering enough energy to fall asleep either.

Gumi seemed to grasp the turmoil because instead of chasing after Miku, the woman stood up, lifted both of his hands with hers and managed a careful smile as if any other actions would send him scrambling to the holes in the wall like any other common frightened kitchen rat. Her green eyes seemed to glimmer. "Are you free today?"

"I'm sure _Miku's_ more free than me. Why don't you chase after her like you always do? Go on." Len responded harshly.

She didn't flinch. "Well, I'm not _going_ to chase after Miku today. I'm going to chase after _you._ So unless you feel like going to sleep, let's head for a walk."

His shoulders relaxed.

Gumi _always_ knew just the right things to say.

He's got that horrible ache inside his chest that needs resolving and wearing his body out until he can no longer feel often does the trick. Besides, it's a weekend, there shouldn't be anything for him to hold in more energy for. "I was hoping you'd say that. Let me wash up for a little while ー maybe we can can go out at seven?"

They did.

The sun was up by the time their feet reached the neighbourhood park. Small families who seemed to enjoy breathing in the morning breeze were already present, setting out sandwiches by the picnic tables and occupying the other end of the grounds. Gumi pointed out towards the swings and after he mentioned that it's been almost three years since he's last sat on one (it's become embarrassing once you've entered your later teenage years and the younger generations look at you with contempt whenever they want to have a go), she made them walk over so she could strangle him onto a leather seat.

Len was beginning to panic, questioning what the _hell_ does she think she's _doing_ when he felt her palms flat against the straight of his back.

Long constant strings of his protests didn't stop her from throwing him high up in the air, arms clinging onto the chains.

The echoes of her loud laughter was followed with complaints floating through the wind, and in that moment, he forgot all of his problems. He'd forgotten that clash of gentle blue along with his own bright shade, he'd forgotten arguing with Miku and willingly accepted the cold breeze to sting his face.

Let him look up and _breathe._

The sky is the hue of a pale blue.

He can hear the soft sound of a young child laughing in the distance.

Before he knows it, his feet reach the ground and he's got a familiar set of arms encasing him from behind, chin resting on his shoulder as she stared ahead to watch a girl even more than a decade younger than them frolic on the grounds, her small hand held by her mother while another child followed behind in the snow.

"I want one."

Gumi's voice breaks his inner thoughts and he tries his best to look beyond his sights, look at her face beside him. When he lets out a sigh of confusion, she squeezes his body a little, gesturing forward.

"You want some snow?"

"No – a child."

"We can go kidnap one right now if you want."

She pinches his arm and he scowls, bringing a hand up to fix the scarf along his cheeks, nuzzling to keep warm.

The young woman could only hum wistfully with her nose digging into his hair and giving him another squeeze to the body. The blond shifted a little on the seat to make of a better position, raising his own arms up to hold her hands over his shoulders. Gumi hummed appreciatively, "Not like that, you arse– I just want one of my own, a child to _hold_."

Len looked positively bewildered. "You're twenty _three._ "

Even she couldn't help but laugh at that.

It'd be idiotic for them to jump into things too far in the future. But still, _still,_ she can't help but hope and ponder. "I know that. Just, someday, you know?"

Another flash of that blue, and he had to look down thoughtfully.

The boy looked over his shoulders to meet the jade of her eyes and he had to squeeze her hand in return. And this time, he couldn't find a witty reply or a sarcastic remark to ruin the mood, he couldn't spoil the moment with a joke or grunt in lazy acknowledgementー this time, he couldn't help but _understand._ "Yeah. I know."

And maybe this has decided his mind on something.

Her phone blares and she leaves their small embrace to check the time, reaching over to ruffle his hair affectionately. "Hm.. I've got to head off now, d'you need me to come back afterwards once I'm done with class?"

Len halts to contemplate – deciding with a swift shake of his head. "No, I've already got plans for tonight. I'll get home a little late."

"Plans on the eleventh of February, huh.." The young woman offers a hand to pull him to his feet. It surprises him when she leans in to press a long kiss to his cheek. He could feel the gentlest flicker of her lashes against his skin, and the warmth that spread across his flesh. "Happy birthday, sunshine."

When he opens his eyes, she's gone. And he looks at the empty roads, watches the melting ice atop a car window and how when that little girl sprints away from her mother's hold to dive in the grass, her older brother runs ahead to protect her fall.

The sky is a beautiful blue. He knows that by now.

But so is the entire world.

.

.

.

.

It's Tuesday by the time he makes a decision. One of Len's Professors was a foreigner in his early thirties who harboured a particular fondness for the craft of poetry, dabbling into wealthy literature and never once failing to include such interests into their studies. Thus, all through the two-hour long lesson they'd been handed a list of topics to go home and research in advance for future discussion even as the class had ended on a simple subject.

 _There sober thought pursued the amazing theme, till' fancy coloured it and formed a dream._

"Who here can name the dateー _not entirely accurate if you mustー_ and origin of this quote?"

Wordless, save for the quiet ticking of a clock.

"Nobody? Oh, come on, now."

His eyes spun in disbelief.

An entire classroom filled with literary scholars that claim they've scored amongst the highest perfection in this country and not a single student dares to stand up and provide a response to a question. His dark hair swishes above his forehead in dull frustration. Until, at the back row of the seats, a young man carefully raises his hand up and awaits the nod of approval before parting his lips to speak.

"Between the seventeenth to eighteenth century, Alexander Pope."

The wooden desks are a striking contrast against lucidly pale walls and a similar floor, and it's similar to an asylum with just only one window allowing the sunlight to peek in. The heater does no aid to bring warmth and it's akin to standing in a freezer for refuge from the cold frost that awaits outside.

But you can only take what you can get.

"Thank you, Kagamine! I do hope that silence we've received just minutes beforehand was you properly considering what to say rather than sneaking your phone beneath the desk to _Google_ an answer."

There was a grim chuckle at the front of the room. Nobody else found this amusing.

Len only answered with a plain tone. "No, Sir."

The older man recovered by turning his back to the table. "Alright. Sit back down, we'll get to the rest of this. Now we know one factor: the origin. Write this down. Would you call an origin important? Something to consider."

The sound of a marker scratching above the surface of a clean board was heard.

 _'WORD: ORIGIN, ARTICULATION, DEFINITION AND CAUSE.'_

This was _elementary_ _school_ work. Len doesn't even need to blink to recognise what comes of it. The normal basis of things; _Where it comes from, how it's understood, what the subject of interest could mean and the purpose of it for existing._

Each study was unsolidified though the idea of variety within each and every different person such as how one could preferably set one thing of importance while the other decides on a contradiction.

What's often forgotten is while each one might stand out on it's own, just one of those singulars could not exist without another and so forth. Often mentioned is, however, for a poet, language is dubbed an art; while that pen that they put down to paper is perceived as just another plain paintbrush there will always be a deeper meaning behind each and every piece.

When one reads a story book, there are times when they can envision the idea of the characters: a description of their traits and personalities and all those things that throw away fundamental keys were left in the dirt under the guise of ornamental emotions and lifeless words that hung off like gaudy decorations off another Christmas tree.

Skill is developed and understood by the limits of a wide vocabulary or praise.

But talent is being able to create an entire world that one can delve in.

To touch, to see, to _feel,_ as if it were truly there, and you can no longer tell the difference between reality and delusion.

There is only one person in this world who Len personally knows can do that. Albeit, sometimes, he wonders whether she can even go beyond it.

The professor cleared his throat and looked back towards his students. "Now that we know the origin, what is an articulation? Yes, Kobayashi."

"Script?"

"Script! Written form, pronunciation ー whatever makes a word become a word, which, obviously, is followed by definition. But can someone here give me the _definition_ of a definition? Or even more, in your own way, express the definition of a _word?"_

The simplest questions are often the hardest to answer, because it's never known _how_ one would like it to be presented.

"Don't be silent, you know that any lack of decisions in this class _might_ urge me to tamper with your grade."

But even that _urge_ , whether or not interpreted as a bargain or a threat, not a single one from their class of twenty decided to stand up and provide an answer.

Not for the sake of being silent but rather to think on the concept.

A word was a word, simple as that.

Whether it's a noun, a verb, something addressed for the past, present or future. One single thing you utter, write, press into a phrase; you could grab any dictionary and come up with an answer. Oxford, _Merriam Webster_ , just about any other hardcover to snatch off the shelves and you'll get more or less a similar answer.

 _Word (noun): The text or spoken part of something belonging to literature.  
1.1 Something that symbolizes and communicates a meaning usually without being divisible into smaller units capable of independent use_  
 _1.2 A single distinct conceptual unit of language, comprising inflected and variant forms._

It didn't take long for the man at the front of the room to erase everything from the board that had already been scribbled and instead did new fine, slanted writing that tilted an odd bit too much towards the left.

A hobby he does whenever he wants to see whoever truly bothered to write notes or _pay attention,_ grin brimming his teeth at the look of distraught faces that reveled afterwards.

"Kinzaki, you look like you're about to murder me. Yes, we _all_ know that you've already learned this back in, whatー fourth grade? But this is still an often overlooked subject that I want you to visit once again. I am teaching you all how to _feel_ , how to _sense_ , I am _not, however,_ particularly teaching you how to write. No. You should already know how to do that on your own by now. We'll be studying this for the current semester and I'll be introducing our class into another focus beginning Thursday." He cleared his throat. "Now, I mentioned four important factors. Origin, articulation, and definition. Can anyone remind me what was the fourth, along with your personal description of it?"

A softer voice at the corner of the class finally raised her hand. A young lady with golden tanned skin and coloured dark blue hair. "' _Cause'_ ー the reason of it, why you'd use it in a sentence or whatever it could relate to.."

"Thank you, Ms. Lapis! In a sentence, a cause is the main reason for everything, either to hit something deep inside your mind or to put what you're looking for in the frontal line. It is the subject, and it is the structure. And that _cause_ takes form of a word. I will repeat this again for your sakes, so if you haven't yet, please write it down, _'here sober thought pursued the amazing theme, till' fancy coloured it and formed a dream.'_ What is the cause here? What is our _subject?_ "

A passing beat of each heart.

 _Ahh... well, he's been amongst the most silent for long enough._

Len closed his eyes even as his chest stared straight ahead. "Dream."

"Right again, Kagamine. For the next lesson we'll be delving further into this matter, but I want an _essay_ on what your definition of a _word_ is and what you would say is your _favourite_ , with another full separate paper on _that_ by the end of this month. Kinzaki, again, don't look at me like that, if you believe you're above grade-schoolers then something like this shouldn't be such a difficult thing. More than three hundred words, and less than a thousand ー I want this _compacted,_ but enough to put what you've got to paper. Ironically ー a _'word'_ is a unique word. That's why I'd like to see _each_ individual perception on it."

The sound of his beeping watch alerted the man to a stop.

"I suppose that concludes our session for today. As always, remember that you can ask me any questions through my e-mail, and to review the translated excerpt from Cervante's manuscript."

The hall is filtered into emptiness and as Len leaves the building, staring at the cloudless skies and how this morning seems just the slightest bit chillier than the others, the blond has to blow some breath into the palms of his frozen gloves to calm his mind down.

A _dream_ is the loveliest thing he can think of, where those itching delusions that drive you mad can hold you safe in it's arms.

His favourite dream.

Would be _Her._

.

.

.

.

The walk to his destination isn't an abnormally long one, but it's a walk nonetheless. He'd pulled his scarf higher up his nose and felt a flower petal float from of the trees and land above his batted eyelash before the blond managed enough stability to walk up through the glass doors.

"Welcome to Café Fragments! How may I serve you ー"

The next words died in her throat.

She'd dropped the napkins that were in her hands from empty-minded shock and he'd bent down to retrieve it, returning them with mirroring fingers that nearly trembled by each move they made and felt the slightest flicker of a warm touch as she accepted the gesture without taking those beautiful oceans off his own for even a single moment, leaving nothing away from sight. Len took a moment, then parted his lips to speakー but everything was lost when the blonde turned around and began to tend to the next customer, plastering on the sweetest smile and a laugh that could brighten the heavens.

"Rin." He called out.

It fell on deaf ears.

"Rin. I need to talk to you." Len tried again. His voice is soft so as to not attract attention, and he can hear the jingle of a bell as the door opened and introduced a new customer ー a group of boys that seemed in their teens. " _Rin,_ it's just for a minute. Please?"

She flew over to tend to them after seating down the previous one she was serving. That fake, fake, smile. Her giggle tinkled like little ocean bells and her fingers folded neatly across her skirt. "Here again? This is the fourth time this week, I can't help but worry about your allowances. What can I get for you boys today?"

"Just the usual," One of them replied with what he must've hoped was a sexy grin. " _You_."

There was a round of applause from their group for that boy's comment and Rin held a palm against her chest, pretending to be flustered by his words. Though now that Len thinks about it, with a bit of bitterness, she probably _was_. Did all his _own_ years of pampering her do nothing? Alright, it's fair, maybe he wasn't _so_ talented with offering sweet words but he showed his affection through gestures and that should amount to more than anything else. Then again, he'd often snatch his hand out of her own whenever she tried to do so much as snuggle in public.

Len realised he'd had his hands clenched into fists. _Damn_... he's.. it's undescribable.

"Haha! Nice try, buddy." Her pretty lash winked. "I'm a bit more interested into older men, see." A flick of her wrist brought flaxen tresses to fly behind her ear. "Little boys like _you_ need a little more aging up to do, Utatane. Like focusing on your upcoming exams."

"Of course! That's why we're here."

"To study?"

"Yes. Of course. Studying _you_."

Another round of whistles and cat calls, and Rin had to roll her eyes good-naturedly before tapping a pen on the top of the folded menu for attention, telling them to call her over once they've decided on a proper order rather than another pathetic excuse to flirt. She left the table with lots of protests, and Len had almost thought she was finally walking over to acknowledge him when she'd suddenly turned left to watch the cashier.

The blond had to take a deep breath. This was infuriating. Just one day before, she'd been giggling beside him and acting as if not a single moment had passed their days yet now his existence is almost like air. Rather, less than air, because at least she needs that to breathe. But him...

She doesn't need him for anything.

Len tries to deny that thought with a firm shake of his head and as the young man walks up to approach her once again, a different waitress is by his side. "Bonjour! Welcome to Café Fragments, could I tend to you today?"

She's tall, not at all plump (unlike Rin's slight chubbiness, especially in the cheeks) and held fiery reddened hair tightened into a knot above her head.

 _Pretty._ Just like all the other workers here. Except a tad bit too young and lively for his taste.

His eyes can't help but flicker back and forth between the counter. "Oh! Were you here for Rin? Not to worry!" Her words flood into his ears before he has a chance to speak, and Len feels every single nerve enter hyperdrive when she waves a hand towards said blonde to gather attention. "I'll get you a seat. Rin! Could you please come over here for a minute, there's someone you've forgotten to tend to!"

The way this girl shouted for everyone in the building to have eyes on him.. Oh _no._ Len shrinks away in undeserved shame. The young blonde bites on her bottom lipー a bad habit she develops when nervous and a sight he's seen far too many times.

Maybe coming here _wasn't_ the right decision.

"You could tend to him first, Masaoka! The receipts here are, umー _jammed,_ that's right. Jammed. I've got to fix this first, I'll be right there in a minute!"

As if she couldn't be even _more_ obvious. Now the air is just becoming stiff.

"You don't even know _how_ to fix paper jams."

"Yes I _do!_ "

 _Alright_ then. "Look. I'll just– I'll go." He took a step back, and that red–haired waitress looked like she was about to protest but he bit firmly down onto his bottom lip, sparing another last glance towards the blonde and seeing how she was desperately avoiding any contact with him. "I'm not looking for anybody here–"

Masaoka looked positively mortified at the idea of losing a customer.

And this was all _Rin's_ fault for being picky on who she wanted to tend to. She wasn't _usually_ like this.

That girl is supposed to be the friendliest and welcoming one _here_ and yet there she is, pretending to read up on spoiled receipts, even though there's a completely healthy young man just _waiting_ here. Oh lord, she'd be happy to serve him herself if it wasn't that desperate look in his eyes that sought for only one person ー actually, he's been here before, hasn't he.. tightening her red hair into a thinner bun, the girl nods and vaguely recalls. Not that it really matters right now.

He wasn't allowed to go without a fight. "Then just stay for some coffee! Please?"

"Well.."

This isn't exactly his _favourite place_ for coffee, though. This part of town didn't do much justice in contrast to his local milky froth that covered the entire cup.

When he noticed the blonde run off somewhere behind the kitchens where she couldn't be seen, he finally resolved to getting a takeaway warm cappuccino on a feeling of pure guilt and obligation because of this waitress. She was desperate and must be just another high school student working on part time for extra money. Len would feel rather _rude_ to come in without ordering a single thing, especially with the way this red haired kid was staring at him, all teary eyed.

God– maybe he'll pass this off to the next person he meets on the street.

Just as he'd taken a step outside, staring at the violet skies and contemplating on the fastest decision to get home, he'd heard a resounding clack of heels climbing down the stairs behind his every step. She still came after him. _Rin_ , he can't help but whisper her name like a beautiful melody.

It's too bad his irritation isn't as flexible as her state of emotions. The young lady is an irregular variable, and just standing beside her makes his head whirl, trying to figure out her thoughts and actions and everything that broke his mentality until he'd go insane.

Her brows are pulled together in a look of frustration and he can't help but stare at the cute frown on her lips. "Alright. I'm off my shift, what did you want?"

"How nice. And I thought you _actually_ wanted to see me."

His voice is bitter, but he can't help it. That way she spoke to him struck an impatient nerve.

One night ago, she stood in front of him, _laughed_ like they hadn't parted for days. They'd walked under the stars again and he watched her glow brighter than the entire universe. Now, she looks at him with indignance, arms crossed and her brows glaring at him with that stern upwards flick of her nose that makes everyone else feel as if they're beneath her. His heart throbs against his chest in irritation and she taps her foot to hurry up a response.

"Can you blame me? After I _explicitly_ told you not to find me, so many times that it's enough to get inside a dog's head even _after_ I'd succumbed to your childish behaviour for an entire night in the hopes that you'd actually have some humanity left in you within that thick skull to obey my one request ー you'd still gone around that. I believed you the first time you came here, I _believed_ you at the springs, but now, I'm not so sure. Genuine coincidences don't happen this often, Kagamine."

Oh, sure, call him by his family name. As if that makes her seem any more intimidating.

It did. But he's not about to admit that.

" _This isn't a coincidence_. I wasn't even claiming it to be ー what's got you in so much of a knot, anyways? Afraid those _little boys_ will see? Afraid they're going to know you're not such a perfect little queen like you make yourself out to be? You've finally got admirers. How proud you are now that you haven't got to go around shouting at the top of your lungs for that _attention_ you love so much."

"Those little boys you're talking about are only _two years younger_ than you. Get off your bloody high horse. It's surprising, _you_ trying to mock them when you've got the mentality of an under developed dog, you know that? At least they're doing something more pleasant in their life like working on their _studies_ or conversing with friends other than obsessively following behind a young lady and keeping her at your house overnight ー practically forcing her to have _sex_ with you even though she's told you multiple times that she didn't want to ー"

" ー I gave you a _choice_." He hissed.

Just that, and she was silenced.

Her eyes glanced down to her knees and she shuffles her feet together, trying to find a retort, but only finding images of blank pages and wordless lips. He did give her a choice, maybe ー but only her. Her body, her mind, but not that little, pulsing thing that yearns for warmth, residing in the left side of her chest. Rin _had_ no choice. At least, that's what she thinks.

And his foul mouth, finding her silence as an opportunity to continue droning on, couldn't stop now that he felt as if he'd achieved victory. "What did those _children_ say again? _Study you,_ huh, I barely need to doubt on how _thorough_ that research will be.. it must be pleasant for them to know soon enough how much of a _whore_ you really are. Though don't get me wrong, you're likely best when _your legs are spread open._ At least then, your mouth is shut."

That's _it._

She wasn't crying, much unlike how he'd expected. No glassy eyes nor pouting lips, no arms crossed that begged him to give her a hug and kiss her tears until they'd fade away. _Nothing._ Her expression is blank, as if uncomprehending, and Len allows his hands to fall back at the side of his waists.

And yet somehow, _somehow,_ that makes his heart throb.

God, he should learn to hold his mouth.

Len pulls at his hair, harshly tossing a hand to grip the locks into a fist from frustration. ".. I'm sorry. I didn't.. I didn't _mean_ that." He looks through the glass windows, seeing the other customers who don't pay them a second glance. When she doesn't reply, he brings his thumb up to stroke her cheek ー yet she turns her chin away to avoid his touch. "Rin. Look at me ー you know I didn't."

"No, you're right. I am _best_ when my legs are spread, aren't I?"

Her voice is soft. Like the crackling of fire during a winter storm.

He feels his composure, his harshness, his confidence ー all falling apart right in front of their own eyes. "You aren't."

 _You're so much more than that._

When she bends down, fixing her heels and beginning her waltz down the stairs he'd let everything drop. Whatever he was planning to do today had failed and now he'll have to watch her walk away all over again like he _always_ has, only this time, it's his own mistake. There was a pull at his jacket and he'd assumed it was the wind trying to keep him stable but when it tugs him to a certain direction, Len notices that she's actually taking him away and he follows with empty-minded curiosity, hoping that somehow his words would be forgotten like a drifting breeze. It isn't until he notices that _same_ brick alleyway and his back being pushed against the wall in a similar way he'd once done to her does the blond's eyes jump open in surprise.

Len tries not to admire her gaze. That cold, ice blue that, although once thawed at his heart ー now it only freezes it up to a stone.

Her voice is a dangerous lull, though not anything menacing but rather of a succumb to defeat. "You're right. You're right, you're right. You should just take me right now, shouldn't you? It's not like there's anything _better_ about me."

Her fingers reach the zipper of her skirt and he darts out his hand to catch her wrist.

"Stop it. I'm _sorry,_ I already told you that."

She shrugs cynically. "Oh, don't hold back. After all, you _own_ me, right? That's what you said ー don't think I didn't hear it. Don't think I didn't see _anything_. I know a whole lot more than what you let on. Come on, use me and throw me away, like you always do."

"What are you _talking_ about?"

A passing wind blows through the street.

There's a growing storm in those cool eyes, making it feel like this was lightning, and he's being struck by it. Over and over again, the punishment fitting for a living hell.

"Ask _her._ Why bother with me? Ask _her."_

 _Her?_ This doesn't make sense. He's standing just in front of her, but right now, it feels like they come from different worlds.

Len loves riddles. Truly. He considers it the essence of literature itself. If a stranger was the riddler, he would dig deeper into the core until the answer is within the palm of his hand. If she was the riddler, however, he would not hesitate even a heartbeat before admitting defeat, "I don't understand."

"You can't just take back everything you say."

When he doesn't understand a single thing she utters, it's a bit difficult _not_ to. Collapsing under the weight of each of her words, and at the same time trying _somehow_ to decipher what was going on inside that mind and those _eyes_ that no longer flinched.. he's being driven to the edge of his sanity and each step feels like a needle being torn through his throat.

She looks at him. Smiles, and then _laughsー_ her usual laugh.

But her eyes don't change and he feels each pump of his blood turn cold underneath his skin, like he's meant to turn into stone.

"If you don't want this, then we're done here, aren't we?" Her hair spins over her shoulder and he feels the sharp points scrape his cheeks.. "I've told you many times before, and I'm not going to say it again. _Leave._ Don't look for me because there is _nothing_ stopping me from finding somewhere better."

She takes a step away, and then another, and he can hear her dimming silhouette leaving him with every softening step of her feet.

Len closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"Even that _boy?_ "

Rin stopped dead in her tracks. He could see her shoulders stiffen and one heel was just barely lifted from the ground before she set it down. The young woman didn't move, her arms flying up to tightly hold around her own waist ー a habit to do whenever she's nervous and hiding something, and it's too bad he's already accustomed to her traits. Whatever else being held back, it can be revealed.

Her voice shook as she spoke. "What boy? Those high-schoolers? They're nothing to me."

"Not them. That little boy ー that _child._ By roses and tulips. He looks just like you, doesn't he?"

The blonde felt her heart stop.

Lie. _Lie._ "That.. that's my friend's son. I offered to pick him up, I look after him often.. whenever she's busy. You don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"As if anyone would believe _that._ "

The young man grips his fists into his shirt and watches as she looks down, contemplating, as if all she had to do was make a little wish under the bright skies and all her problems would fade away in the oceans. At this point, she'd seemed to harbour an uncanny resemblance with a vengeful spirit of whom had craved blood, and he'd dug through all he could just to catch a sight of those eyes hidden behind her bangs. They were piercing as she turned around to face him, ice cold snd just bordering the line of murderous.

This _bastard._ Traitor.

He's betrayed her trust time and time again. She takes her walk back towards him, and he doesn't move as their gazes meet in a fiery clash of a brightened cobalt against pale blues.

She seethes, and he holds an arm out to protect himself when the young lady brings her fist over to deliver a hit against his chest. "You _followed_ me. It was the only thing I told you _not_ to do, and you still followed me. Get off the face of this earth, Kagamine, get _out!_ " Her chest is engulfed in hot-headed fury and her eyes glare at him through the dark.

The sky is falling down, it's going to sleep once again, and Len won't let another day pass with empty arms.

One swift move was all it took for him to turn things around.

Their feet spun, ankles moved, and the next thing Rin knew, her arms was pinned above her head and he'd pressed her body between his own and the brick wall.

He'd given her a dark look. "Let me see him."

"Why would I do that? You're still stuck in your delusions like always!" Her voice is strangely stable, though he heard a weakened quirk at the end. Just one little slip up, and everything breaks away, and she seems just as aware of it as he is by the tremble of her stare. "Why would I let you see anything? Let alone, a stranger's child. He means nothing to you, and you have absolutely no right to demand me of it."

"A stranger's child? Really? Would you like me to go ahead and give a personal check on whether you're telling the truth?"

"You ー you wouldn't be able to _do_ that ー"

"Unless I involve the law."

Horrid realisation flashed through her gaze and he no longer had any doubt that she knew what was in his thoughts. That child couldn't ever belong to a stranger, not her friend's son and definitely not any other youth that was left on the streets. His eyes, his eyes, his eyes, that little boy's eyes that held the entire ocean and the stars and all of the universe that she'd tried to keep for her own and now the one thing she's feared for all these years has finally come.

He knows who's child it is, and now he's only taunting. Poking her further and further until the ice strengthens it's frost against her throat and the only thing left for her to do was is reveal all those hidden little secrets she'd proudly kept inside safe within her mind.

Rin forces a palm against his chest. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think I do. You do, too, don't you?"

"He's.." She choked a sob, "H-he's not _yours._ "

Checkmate.

Len never _said_ that he was. She'd fallen into her own trap, right between his fingertips.

When he holds her cheek, gently, _tenderly,_ and tilts it forward to force their gazes to meet she doesn't look away. Instead she stands there, frozen, and his eyes fall onto the beautiful vermilion of her lipsー and everything goes numb enough that _he doesn't know how to think_ and he tilts his head to the side, _closing his eyes,_ bending in towards her warmth to feel that one, little perfect thing.

But he never receives it. Her lovely arms wrapped around his neck and her tears as it runs down the side of his cheek. Instead the only reward is a harsh shove against his shoulders and Len stumbles, his own back hitting against the opposite wall as he looks at her with open shock.

The coffee cup he was holding fell to the floor and tainted it with a wet brown.

When he looks down towards the darkened asphalt, there's bits and pieces of torn glass from _before._

"You.. you _can't._. never." Their chains together are broken. Len looks back up, not sure if he's heard her voice correctly. " _YOU CAN'T HAVE HIM!_ "

Her scream is a piercing shriek.

Enough to be heard from miles away. He's... he's never received _that kind_ of tone from her.

Much less, directed to him. The blinding hate in her eyes is covered with just a small bit of moisture and he almost thinks she's about to cryー so he reaches out, _he doesn't know why, maybe to wipe her tears awayー_ but then he feels weakened fists flying at his chest, hitting, hitting, screaming and trying to keep whatever she's holding concealed with the last bit of strength she has.

" _YOU TAKE EVERYTHING AWAY FROM ME!_ EVERYTHING! YOU HAVE EVERYTHING ー HE WILL _NEVER_ BE YOURS! YOU CAN'T! YOU COULD'VE ASKED ME FOR _ANYTHING_ AND I'VE HAVE GIVEN IT, _BUT NOT HIM._ YOU'LL NEVER HAVE HIM! _I WON'T GIVE HIM TO YOU!_ "

"Stop itー Rin, _stop it_ ー"

" _NO!_ HE'S THE ONLY THING I _HAVE._ "

Len stumbles when she directs a particularly harsh hit to his stomach but he recovers quickly, snatching her wrist out of the way and holding it down when she looks at him with those wide eyes and her look of fear and he feels the vomit rise up his throat. _This girl._

This _Rin._

The one person he'd wanted to protect. The only person he'd willingly reach into his chest and pull out his heart until there's nothing left in his core to live and she's _afraid._ She's afraid of _him._

"Look at meー ouch, _heyー_ look at me!" The blonde dares enough power to use her legs and kick his feetー but he pushes her away, still managing a firm grip on her arms. "Listen for once, dammit." And when she still lifts her leg and he dodges it, "Jesus christ; I'm not trying to _kill_ you."

The glass flies between them again, and he notices there's just a little bit of snow that bites on his cheeks.

But that all ends. _Silence._ The young man's words must've inflicted _something_ because so suddenly, like the quiet shower of rain after a booming thunder's road, her screams end. Instead it drifts to soft, little sobs like a broken melody in a void of endless sound, as if she's sung until her voice had reached her limit and she could no longer _sing._

Her knees buckled and she collapsed to the ground beneath him. ".. yー yes you are.."

What has he _done?_

 _Kagamine Rin._

A girl who has never once raised her voice against her elders, who'd kept her head lowered beneath her parent's feet, whose cries had always been as soft as the gentle blooming of a budding flower.

And she'd screamed. _At him._ He's confused, he's cold, he's just as lost without her and she does nothing to heal him no matter _how much_ he's trying for her. Len struggles for a moment and tries to pick the blonde's weight back up to keep any residues on the ground from entering her skin but she refuses his aid and instead wraps her arms around his waist and to emit a sob that's buried deep into his stomach through the thick wool of his jumper and the coat that falls below his knees.

Her entire body shivers against him, and he scrapes the heel of his boots against the ground.

".. not him, please.. not him..."

Len strokes his fingers through her pale hair that suddenly seems so much whiter beneath the cold. "Shh.. _I won't take anything from you."_

"... anything, I'll give you _anything.._ just not him.." She sobs again, a painful wail that makes him fall to the ground so they're standing on equal level. ".. if it's what you want, I'll _leave.._. I promise. I'll go somewhere, far, far away..."

That's not what he wants.

That's not what he wants _at all._

When they pull away, his stiff fingers rising up to push her hair away from blinding her eyes, Len notices that she isn't crying. Her eyes are downcast and she still refuses to meet his gaze, but he catches the sight. Although her entire frame shivers until it can no longer move there is a nagging lack of wet streaks running down her cheeks _ー i_ _t's almost as if she'd lost the ability to cry._

.

.

.

.

He doesn't know he managed to get her to agree.

 _You can meet him, but you can't tell him anything he doesn't need to know._

Namely, that child's relations.

To that boy, Len will only be seen as a stranger. It's not something he'd really come to terms with but when he's got no other choice, it's better than nothing at all.

Today is another cold night.

He's in the car, not drivingー only looking at the address on his phone and looking at the tall building through an open window. It's got to have at least thirty floors, and just one glance at the balcony on the highest level makes this weird little rumble in his abdomen, already thinking about the aftermath of what happens if one decided to jump from that height. Definitely not the safest place to raise a child, much less a toddler that could do absolutely anything to sate foolish curiosities.

Not that he should just the mentality of kid he's never even met, _ehem._ The young woman isn't exactly someone you can claim has enough responsibility for foreseeing that kind of risks, however. It could just be his paranoia playing tricks on a highly caffeinated mind.

God. He hates drinking energy drinks at night, but the accumulated stress insists it's desires. She'd begged him not to follow her to the nurseryー instead wishing some time alone to recover and giving him the location of her home including the time it'd be alright for him to visit. She wanted to meet by a nearby park, just close enough that it's safe to bring a child out during night but still too far for any unwanted bystanders to have enough dedication to trail her. He'd started the engine back up, turned the corner and pulled into a parking lot before leaving the car.

It's been four hours since they'd last seen each other.

Now it's a quarter past nine. Rin was already there. Waiting on the park bench, alone, and when he tightened his scarf along his nose and rubbed his palms together before running up to the blonde so he could shoot an inquisitive look, she gave a weak smile in greeting. Her hand raised, moving fingers to point forwards and he had to look behind him before he saw _it._ The moon stood proudly over their heads, greeting the coming season and leaving it's taste of a shimmering glow above the wide lake. But beneath that, stood a small silhouette that was bent on the ground, palms searching over the grass, as if there was something to find.

He'd looked so deep in concentration that Len was lost in thought, noticing how that little boy's eyes could shine even through the dark.

Len couldn't help but feel his heart throb. There's something about _this._

About this boy ー about how he stands from a distance, yet it becomes so stifling for him to breathe and every single nerve and function in his brain goes on lockdown. He can no longer feel the chill on his skin nor how the frost bites on his nose. The only thing that matters is those tiny fingers grippling at the ground and suddenly feeling a warmth bubbling up inside him that he _can't even_ explain.

But the one thing he _does_ know is inevitable:

This boy is his _son._

"What.." His tongue suddenly feels limp in his mouth, as if it doesn't belong. "What's he doing..?"

She looks amused. "Looking for four-leafed clovers."

He turns to stare at her as if she'd grown a second head. "It's winter.. the chances of him finding _that_ is as unlikely as finding a blooming cherry blossom tree in the middle of autumn. Not to mention it's snowing again."

Rin lets him hear a little giggle rip from her throat and he doesn't think he's ever heard anything as beautiful come from her voice as he did then. Even if it sounded weak, even if it sounded as if just one more word spoken and _she would never be able to speak ever again,_ he wanted it. _He wanted to hear all of it._ Memories of the desperation and screams earlier in the evening resurfaced his mind and he closes his eyes to wipe it all away. May that fly somewhere into the skies where they can never reach.

"I know that, and _you_ know that, but _he_ doesn't know that. Don't be a killjoy and let the boy have fun, he doesn't get to go out much. Oh, see? He's already coming."

The child's arms were filled with red flowers, coated in ice, and his rosy cheeks were spread into a bright grin as he presented it to his mother with all the brightness and love in the world that Len almost thought he'd went blind. She kissed his cheek when his body came forwards, tightened the thick scarf around his fragile shoulder and complimented his choice of harvestー all while that little boy cooed and nuzzled into her chest.

He froze a moment when he noticed a different presence beside them, and turned to look towards the man, even as his thick golden lashes batted with frost.

Rin plucked the snow away from his face.

"Coucou, mon chou.. mummy wants to introduce _'oo_ to someone," When he blinked at her with those wide, innocent eyes, that answered how he didn't understand even _a single thing_ she said, his mother cupped her palms over his ear, putting her mouth close to _whisper,_ albeit being loud enough for all of them to hear. " _Maman_ veut te présenter quelqu'un.."

"Ooo..." His lips pucker as makes a soft sound of interest, and when he looks back up towards Len, the boy wriggles his brows. ".. _Oo..!_ "

What's that supposed to mean?

"Mmhm. Oooooh!" Rin repeats, bringing the toddler up to climb on her lap. She decides it's better to be polite and bless an explanation. "Don't worry, that means he's interested in you. He often makes this sound whenever we see a fluffy dog."

Len resists the urge to pinch her in the ass. The young man notices, however, that those cobalt pools that mirrored his own never once took his eyes away. His own softened in response, and Len shifts in his seat until it's comfortable ー his mind desperate for something to say. He's never run into a situation like this before, and he'd never thought in all his life that he'd actually want to _talk_ to someone (much less a child) instead of stay quiet for once.

"Hey there.. what's your name?"

When the child didn't respond, Rin gave a little nudge. "Name, darling. Nom ー _prénom._ Comment vous appelez-vous?"

The question finally registered in his mind and he flashed all of his teeth in a lively smile.

"Lui!"

Cute.

The name sounds strangely familiar to him, though he can't exactly put a finger on why. His heart melts when the youth opened his mouth and made a little yawn, turning to his mother so she'd stretch her arms out to make him a comfortable place to rest and nap. She leans her nose towards his forehead and whispers a soft _later,_ just to ease his pout. Well.. it's not like getting in a proper bed matters during his sleeping time.

This little one can fall asleep on the grass as long as he's in his mother's arms.

Len reaches a hand out towards that child's headー sending Rin a soft plea through his eyes, and when she nods in affirmative he allows his palm to rest into beautiful golden curls that twine through his fingers. "Oh, wow.. you have a pretty name. Your mummy gave you such a pretty name..."

A proud hum from the mother.

Lui nuzzles his head higher up into the young man's welcoming hold, much like an affectionate cat.

"It's nice to meet you, Lui.." He watched with mild curiosity as an armful of red poppies were dumped into his lap, decorating his pants. He looked into those eyes, and his mouth _ran_ without thought. "I'm Len. _I'm_ ー"

A breeze rustled by, and an eternity passed.

"ー I'm your daddy."

And just like that, a switch flipped.

All that happiness faded away and he had to blink to make sure everything was real.

Rin suddenly stood up so quickly she'd almost slipped, arms pulling her child away like he was the plague, eyes burning with that same flame she'd faced him with before. Len cursed himself and just as she was about to carry _their son_ and run away at the speed of light, he'd did the quickest thing he could think to do. He'd grabbed the boy's wrist and kept a firm grip, enough for those smallー yet at the same time _wide,_ eyesー to look back and forth in innocent confusion.

He did it again. He did it again. _He did it again._ He gives her so many lies and promises that he never keeps, and she feels her entirety want to crumble to the ground.

Until how long does she have to suffer this?

"You _asshole._ " She spat. "I'm done. With you. With _everything._ Let go of my son."

"God, I didn't say that to hurt youー"

"So what? Your mouth slipped _again?_ " The night howls a freezing breeze. "How many times do you expect me to believe that.. let go." Each second only ticks further impatience on the relentless clock. "Come on, please, just let go."

And what happens when he _does?_

Will he never see these eyes, both of themー that vibrant, beautiful blue that clings to his mother's skirt for another explanation, _something,_ not fear but rather indifference, coating his gazeー and that cold ice of this woman's glare that somehow manages to thaw every ice within his chest.

Let go?

He doesn'tー instead he dives forward, locking his arms around her waist to whisper a strong, _"Never."_

Rin chokes into his shoulder, nose subconsciously sniffing his scarf and tasting all those pleasant dreams of their past, trying to keep herself from forcing away the future.

.

.

.

An hour later, they're in her apartment. She lives on the third floor, thankfully. Not safe in the slightest but it's closer to the ground, and he's proud to see that she's sensible enough to install multiple locks on the doors and windows. Security has _never_ been one of Kagamine Rin's priorities, that's something he's been accustomed to for all these years, and never thought she was capable of changing.

Then again, he'd never thought she'd be a teenage mother living alone in her flat at eighteen years old with a toddler sleeping in her lap, either.

Time changes things.

People, places, _everything._ The blond reaches out to touch the sleeping child, but she shrinks back in protection and he moves his hand away to rest in his lap. _Alright_ , so it's going to be a bit of work to regain her trust ー nothing he can't do. Just some bars of chocolates, treat her to ice cream, and she'll end up using his stomach as her pillow for the next few weeks.

Ha ha. As _if._ What is he kidding. "I think.. I think we need to have a long talk."

No _shit,_ Len.

She leans her back against the wall, watching the falling snow outside the glass. How pitiful, and just when the temperatures decided to rise and bring them the spring warmth, it went back into an everlasting winter wonderland.

He decides to end the silence. "How old is he..?"

God, he looks so tiny. Smaller than he could've ever been at that age, though it's not as if he actually _knows_ how old this boy is. Just that thought is exhausting and cripples at his self doubt ー never in his life would he have thought he'd be the type of person eho didn't even know the date of his first child's _birthday._ There was a piece of him, roaming this earth, and he hadn't even considered the bare possibility. But it's real, it's right in front of him, and there's nothing to prove otherwise.

Revolting.

Him. Himself. It spans throughout his entire diapason without aim.

"Don _'knoー_ last time I checked, he was thirty-seven."

"Rin, please don't make bad jokes..."

"Do the math. You went to school for a reason."

God.. he'd actually forgotten how _irritating_ this girl actually was.

Len can see that small rise and fall of their son's chest and how he rolled around in his sleep. She'd had him bundled up in a thin blanket and he can feel the unearthly chill of the night. Her home doesn't have a heater and he wonders how many winters they've gone through this without any aid. There are no family portraits lining up the walls, a stark contrast to her old home where each corner had an image of her smiling face, arms around her body, even her _mother's_ red lipstick on her cheek.

Instead the walls are clean, a plain cream colour, and it strangely reminds him of an asylum.

It's so _unlike_ her. "He's three years old. Turning four on May twenty-ninth."

Oh.. wow. _Then all those years he's been missing her.._

He has to steel enough courage to ask; "Where's your family?"

She buries her nose into those golden curlsー so nice and fine unlike their own. His is more sharp than soft, and hers wave like the foam that laps by ocean shores. But this _ー_ this boy.. his is ethereal, like the clouds that were sent down by the heavens. Rin didn't feel like answering the question but the expectant look being shot over is undeniably getting on some hot nerves.

The base of the young man's wonder is bizarre, either way.

"What are you talking about? Right here. _This_ is my family."

"Your _parents_ , Rin."

She's had the most loving family he's ever met in this world, a tight-knit group that you could never break apart, but the look she sends him speaks different. The howling wind pounds against the glass windows and begs for entry but they don't pay it any mind. Instead Len's mind drifts, and he stares deeply into the dark night sky, wondering what would occur if he'd ever let this slip to one of his parents.

They're already desperate enough for a model son as is (or more likely, one that stays out of their life and doesn't cause any foul rumours) but with the condition of _this,_ they'd likely cut off contact and leave him to figure it out on his own.

The realisation spreads through him in a flash of shame and horror.

If it was him, that'd be understandable. But _Rin._ Kagamine _Rin._ The little neighbourhood girl who can barely lift a brick by herself without snapping both arms, and needing _at least_ three layers of jackets just to keep herself comfortable during a warm summer.

Who would ever consider leaving someone as fragile as this alone?

Rin pays no mind to his turmoil. She's invested in the small heartbeat, _thump, thump,_ thumping against her chest. "He's my family." She coos, love and adoration filling a proud smile. "And he's the only thing I'll ever need."

Len feels his fists clench at the ground.

When she traps him with her soft words, he feels his inner system go on a raw meltdown: "Do you promise not to take him away from me?"

But he can't _answer_ that.

All those other promises he'd broken _ー all those things she'd claimed as lies.  
_

If he did that, he'd crush them both. He wasn't cruel enough to _do_ that; even if he did, it'd be too much of a risk because Len's sure that neither of them will have the strength to stand back up. So he doesn't speak, lips pursed in the hardest line he could make. Not only does he not want her to be in foul relations with him again but Len doesn't to secure the chance of never being able to see _that_ again. The entire universe, held in such a small vessel, you can no longer tell if it's real.

God, Len wants to _touch_ him.

He buries his face in his palms and his entire body trembles.

His head hurts, more than ever before.

"Good ー don't say anything." The young lady seems relieved. "You never carry out your promises."

That's... that's offensive.

It seems that his silence really was the response she was looking for, so he doesn't bother saying anything else. Len looks at the time on his wrist and he retrieves his scarf from the door, her own feet shuffling closely behind when she notices he's planning to depart even with a quiet snoring bundle wrapped up tightly in her hands.

"Len." _She calls out his name, his favourite sound._ "I don't.. I'm sorry if I.. _snapped_ at you. I can't control my mouth sometimes, I hold things _against you_ even while I'm being a hypocrite."

Two peas from the same pod.

If he'd fallen from a spoiled tree, she was the blooming flower that drained the life from it's roots. Neither was more perfect than the other; that's how _she_ sees it.

And her feelings get carried away, _maybe,_ but they never fade.

When he steps outside the door, and turns around to face her, they don't look away. Both of them. Eyes enraptured, as if not a single minute had passed between them, and all that time spent apart was something that happened in only foolish imagination. Yet, reality is not so kind, it is relentless and it forces you to the _now._

His bottom lip is painful as he speaks, a bit of crimson tainting it at where he'd bitten. "I won't promise you anything anymore. Maybe I'm going against what I just told you by saying this, but I want to try my best."

She blinks at him tiredly.

Len continues, "I want to be in his life. Maybe not _yours,_ if that's what you want, but _his_."

"I told you that he's mineー"

"ー _And I didn't say I'd be taking him away from you._ I'll try to keep out of your life the best I can, alright? He's yours, I'm not fighting you on that. You've already got enough rights as is and you can hold _'those lies'_ against me all you want but you can't raise him alone, Rin. You know you can't."

She looks as if she's about to protest, but he quiets her by tucking a golden lock of hair behind her ear.

And in that one look he sends her, _that one wish_ that attempts to portray all their feelings and their thoughts and _almost everything_ that needed to be said. An entire conversation could be exchanged without words, and as of this moment Len wonders whether that's what they just did.

He can't help a weakened upquirk at the corners of his mouth when she doesn't move away from his touch. "You look tired ーsorry for disturbing you. We can discuss this next time."

The blonde nods, and she tries to adjust her child when a small arm pokes out of the blanket.

As he starts to move away and the door creaks to close, he hears her softness, like a gentle lullaby that cries out in the relentless rain.

"I.. I'm picking him up at three in the afternoon tomorrow. Just so you know."

A soft slam.

Silence.

So he whispers a quiet, _thank you,_ to the wind.

.

.

.

.

The night is warm. It's just begun to snow today, all over again. An unexpected event he would've normally considered a misfortune but now, looking over the snowーcovered roof and the popping winter flowers that sprout from the ground that constantly reminds him so heavily of her, he finds the warmth the most inviting thing to ever come in existence.

He throws his scarf and coat onto the couch cushions when he gets home, and his body drags to the bed by instinct, finger reaching to the photograph by his bedside.

She smiles at him again tonight.

And this time, he can smile back.

The young man imagines the shape of her eyes, only wider and innocently filled with childlike wonder that was never unfamiliar to what she's always showcased and yet the shade is more spirited as his own.

Kagamine Len had always felt as if there was something missing in his life.

Or rather, he'd _known_ there was.

Only this evening, he found out _what_ that missing thing was. And for the first time, in five years, he shuts away his sight and falls into a dream. For the first time in five years, his mouth forms the widest smile as he sinks into a warm pillow.

F _or the first time in five years,_ Kagamine Len sleeps peacefully.

.

.

.

.

* * *

 _ **Happy Valentines Day! Pt2  
** "This is the longest chapter I've ever written" **neame u idiot u knew Nothing.**_

 _ **I think my brain is about to burst. My back is in pain and arms and my health and life is so scary I want to reverse time and go back to my previous state of being a hermit crab who complains about not being allowed to do anything while actually never wanting to do anything at all.  
**_

 _ **so if this never gets an update again, p...p lease,, remember my Legacy**_

 ** _The second translation dump:_** _.  
"Coucou, ma petit prince. Tu m'as beaucoup manqué aujourd'hui! As–tu passé une bonne journée?"  
"Hello, my little prince. I miss you so much! Did you have a good day?"_

 _"T'as fait quoi?_ _ _Lui, ecoute–moi! Tu as fait une bêtise, non?_ "  
"What did you do? ___Lui, listen to me! You did something naughty, didn't you?"__

 _"Oui?_ _ _Where did you get this, then?_ Mm? Un puits d'eau? Un avion?"?"  
"Oh? Where did you get this, then? Mm? A well? An aeroplane?"  
_

 _"Donner sa langue au chat!"  
"Who knows!"  
_

 _"l'eau est froide.."  
"The water is cold."_

 _".._ _Bien. Je m'en fiche"  
".. Fine. I don't care."_

 _"Pain perdu."_  
 _"French toast."_

 _"Coucou, mon chou.. Maman veut te présenter quelqu'un.."  
"Hello, cabbage.. Maman wants to introduce you to someone."_

 ** _pt2:  
_** _"Fickfehler. Geh zum Teuful. Du mich am Arsch lecken."  
"You fuck-up, go to hell. You lick my ass."  
_

 _"Nein. Du kannst mich am Arsch lecken."  
"No. You can lick my ass."  
_

 ** _i swear i'm not going to procrastinate and wait for the vday every single year to update this cursed fic from Hell and seem like i'm actually Productive ok. i am not that low. i think. as always i'm not good at European Languages. So. you can probably find alot of errors in the french+german and most of all, english, because one does not write 20k words without sacrificing their soul 2 satan and receiving bad Quality in the end.  
_**

 ** _anyways uuuuuh happy valentines to all x2_**


End file.
